Harry Potter and the Power he knew not
by Dante Lewis
Summary: What if James wasn't the first Marauder to father a son? Meet Aidan Black, a Slytherin with the heart of a Gryffindor. Witness to the murder of Lily Potter, the woman bound him to a promise in her last breaths. A promise Aidan will do everything to keep.
1. Plans for the Godson

**Disclaimer: **If it were mine, I could pay off my mortgage in less than a minute. Then I could quit work and write FF in cafes all day... in Scotland, no less. *sigh* Alas, I've more chance of picking ear wax out of my ears than my bank accepting your reviews as payment on said mortgage.

**Updated: Sunday 20 June 2009**

**A/N: **This is part of an experiment to test my muse: whichever story gets the most (and the best) feedback I will continue with at a faster pace. At least that's the theory I am out to test...

**Updated: Sunday 20 June 2009**

**Chapter I: Plans for the Godson**

Two little dark-haired boys lay side-by-side in the over-sized cot; one, a fluffy-haired toddler, and the other, an extremely protective four-year-old. Watching over them, a familiar couple looked happy, but weary; the day spent chasing after two able-bodied little boys finally catching up on them.  
"It's so good when he comes to visit," murmured Lily Potter, lovingly adjusting the covers over the two small children, pausing to place her hand over the elder boy's chest; her fidgeting movements calmed by the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. "But it reminds me of how quickly they grow... why, I remember when he was Harry's age..."

"They're certainly going to be two peas in a pod," observed James, reaching down and ruffling the light dusting of hair on his son's head. "No matter the age difference. We'll have to give Aidy his own room soon, though... he won't always want to sleep with Harry."

Lily gave her husband a searching look, mirroring her husband's actions on the older boy's head and absently humming a lullaby as the child shifted in his sleep.  
"We could keep him," she said wistfully. "Sirius will be off on twice as many missions when we go into hiding. Aidan's already here more often than not..."

"Lily, I'm not asking my best friend to give up his son," said James firmly, shaking his head. "And before you say it, you know he'll never leave her..."

"_She_ is not good for him," hissed Lily defensively. "Either of them! Did you not see the state Aidan arrived in? His clothes looked like they hadn't been changed in over a week! He had a scrape on his knee that had gone untreated for at least as long! I know Sirius tries to carry the load, but he works so much; he's not home to pick up the slack..."

"Annie's going through a stressful time," said James, in hopeless defence of his best friend's reluctant wife. "An Auror's working hours are never easy on the wives... not everyone can be as wonderful and capable as you, Lil'."

"Aidan shouldn't have to suffer because of her shortcomings!" snapped Lily, pulling her hand away from the sleeping child in question for fear that her anger would somehow radiate unto the children in the proximity. She whirled around to face her husband and hissed in a low whisper. "Annie never wanted him; never wanted to end up with Sirius. She's irrational, James, and one day I fear she's going to go too far..."

"Sirius loves her, Lily," James reminded his wife in a strained voice, torn between the evidence his wife was presenting to him and the loyalty to Sirius that wanted to deny that his friend could ever have such a fatal attraction.

"She doesn't love him, _James_!" said Lily, with a hint of aggravated condescension. She shook her head. "And some times I can't help but wonder if Sirius only ever went after her because he didn't want Severus to have her-"

"-Snivellus was his own undoing," James cut his wife off, sneering slightly at the mere mention of his nemesis. "If he never pushed her away in the first place and just gave up pursuing _you_, then Annie wouldn't have hooked up with the one chasing _her_ to prove some point-"

"-and Aidan wouldn't be here now," said Lily with a shudder. Pained by the realisation, she bowed her head. "Perhaps that wouldn't be such a bad thing..."

"Lily!" said James, his head snapping up in shock.

"What, James?" said Lily defensively. "Sirius chasing Annie. Annie chasing Severus. Severus wishing he could have who was already yours! We were the only ones destined to be happy in all of this! Aidan being born because Annie wanted to give Sirius what he wanted, just to show Severus that _he _would never get what he wanted... it's not fair on Aidan to have to live with that. Be the consequence of actions his mother cannot face!"  
She shook her head in dismay.  
"Without Aidan, Sirius would be miserable in that marriage, and you know it! She's not good enough for him, no matter how much he professes to love her! He can love her all he wants, but if she never loves him – or Aidan – back, it will not end well!"

She gave her husband a hard look.  
"I would never, _never_ say that Aidan was a mistake; but it _was_ unplanned," said Lily, scowling at her husband when he looked at her as though to say 'what's the difference?'. She narrowed her eyes at the man and frowned. "Sirius is a wonderful father. I doubt that he could be any better even if he'd waited a few years before bringing a child into the world; he's a natural, just like I always knew you would be."  
She favoured her partner with a small appreciative smile and took a deep breath.  
"But when it comes to Annie... he's blinded by his infatuation with her," the smile faded from Lily's lips. "I don't even blame him for that – no one can help how they view the ones they love, after all – but you can only excuse so much, James! Some people just aren't cut out to be mothers..."

"Lily..." said James awkwardly.

"No, don't you 'Lily' me, James Charlus Potter! Annie is running fast out of excuses, and you damn well know it!" hissed Lily, her voice raising slightly. Harry stirred, and she immediately hauled her husband out of the nursery and into the hall. "At first, it was because she was only 18 and had to juggle her pregnancy with her NEWTS. I could understand her falling to pieces then, I really could! I could barely cope with being Head Girl, I never begrudged her having to go through that!"

"I know, Lily..." said James soothingly, running a hand up and down his wife's arm as she fought to justify the uncouth feelings she now felt towards a woman she still considered a friend.

Lily shook him off, too distracted by her husband's touch to welcome it.  
"Then it was post-partum depression... then dealing with the 'adjustment' of graduating and being forced into marriage because the wizarding world wouldn't have things any other way... again, situations that I could readily understand," she shook her head in frustration. "Now come on, you _know_ what I am talking about! This has gone on long enough! One of these days Sirius is going to come home from a mission and find that boy not breathing!"

"-Annie'd never hurt Aidan," said James hesitantly, cutting Lily off.

"Never intentionally, I'll grant you that," said Lily with a sad expression. "But she needs help, James. Help that none of us are able to give her. If you could just _talk_ to Sirius. Tell him what I know you see too... he'll never listen to me! He trusts _you_, James. If you tell him how much Annie needs a break from Aidan, he'll consider leaving him here for longer... you can't deny that it wouldn't be for the best!"

James sighed in frustration.  
"I know Lily, you're right," said James, giving in to his wife's cajoling. "But I just can't do what you're asking! I can suggest that Sirius spend a little less time in the field... give Moody a few subtle hints, even; but it's not our place to tell him how his son should be raised, or by whom."

"Oh, but it's our place to stand by and watch that sweet, lovable, adorable little boy suffer at the hands of a neglectful mother?" snapped Lily, her hands perched on her hips in a show of defiance. "Merlin, James... I love Annie, I really do. There was a time when I counted her as one of my closest friends. But she just can't cope... not alone as often as she is..."

James looked pensive, giving his wife's desperate words considerable thought. Sirius had been leaving Aidan with them more and more as he left on missions longer than two days, always citing that Annie was 'under the weather'. He'd always tried not to pry in his friend's marital life, but it was never any secret that the unlikely pair had only married because of the baby – it could hardly be expected to be the groundings of a fulfilling relationship. This latest visit, little Aidan had arrived disheveled and hungry, unwashed and with an infected scab on his left knee. Sirius had looked mortified by his son's condition, the man having spent four days longer than the prescribed two on his last rotation in the field, and had been uncharacteristically quiet when dropping the boy by for an unscheduled visit. James knew for a fact that his best friend did not have another mission so soon, and so strongly suspected that the overworked man was taking steps towards getting his wife the help she needed; he was not entirely sure that their intervention now would be welcomed, or necessary. But with he and his wife due to take Harry into hiding within the week, the Stag Animagus could not overlook the fact that there would come a time very soon whereby he and Lily could not simply take the boy at a moment's notice, or indeed watch over him at all whilst Sirius was away on assignments. Annie either needed to come to cope on her own, or accept some form of live-in help... something the woman had wanted to try, but Sirius was rightfully adverse to, in light of the wizarding world's current political climate. It was just too dangerous to bring someone new and unfamiliar into the house, especially with Voldemort's propensity for putting unsuspecting victims under Imperius and dolling out Polyjuice Potion to his followers like Dumbledore handed out Lemon Drops... and given Sirius' own childhood experiences with House Elves, magical help was never brought up.

Wrapping her arms around her husband's waist, Lily sighed into the man's returned embrace; resting her forehead on his chest.  
"What are you thinking, love?" she said, feeling suddenly guilty for having loaded so much more onto her husband's shoulders; it wasn't as if they had enough on their plate trying to keep little Harry safe.

"Perhaps they should come into hiding with us," said James, becoming strangely excited as a wand lit up in his mind. "Moody 'n Shacklebolt'll pitch a fit for losing _two_ of their most promising Aurors, but there's plenty of room here, and it'd be nice to have a little back up on hand, y'know, just in case..."  
He whirled his wife around in a strange impromptu dance.  
"Think about it, Lil'! Harry will have a little someone to play with, and we can keep an eye on Aidan all we want whilst ensuring Annie gets the help she needs..."

"...and you can regress back to your Hogwarts days with your best friend living under the same roof as you? I think not, Mr Potter," said Lily, aghast at what would become of her house with two of the Marauders – and their respective progeny – in close quarters. Even still, she could not deny that the idea had some merit, if only for one pressing matter. "But Sirius is going to be Secret Keeper... it won't be as effective if he resides under the roof that he is charged to protect."

James ruffled his hair, much like he had done by the side of Hogwarts' lake all those years ago, though now Lily recognised the action as an act of nervousness.  
"Well about that," said James, his voice drifting off. "Sirius made a suggestion..."

"Mama Lily?" a small, sleepy voice called from the darkened doorway of Harry's nursery. "I heard angry voices."

Untangling herself from her husband's arms, Lily had swept the little boy up into her embrace before the child even had the opportunity to rub the sleep out of his eyes.  
"What are you doing up, little man?" cooed Lily, struggling with the limber weight of the growing four-year-old in her arms. "Oooh, you're getting big! Did _Aunt_ Lily and Uncle James wake you?"

Aidan Black blinked at his red-haired angel, a small fist rubbing at one of his eyes. He grinned at the woman coyly before nestling his head on her shoulder and, thumb in mouth, stabbing a finger in James' direction.  
"He Uncle _Pongs_," he said informatively, hiding his grin around the digit in his mouth.

James growled playfully at his little godson and waggled his fingers in front of the child's wide grey eyes, the threat of an attack from the notorious tickle-monster imminent. When Aidan first started talking, he called all of the Marauders by their nicknames, never quite mastering the pronunciation of 'Prongs'. There was little doubt that the emerging Marauder in Aidan knew how to say the name now, it – much to his father's delight - was just a conscious choice on the boy's part to taunt James with the unflattering variation. The 'Mama Lily' situation was a little more innocent, however. Lily had spent a lot of time those first few years – before Harry came along – helping Annie day to day with chasing after an active toddler and looking after the house whilst their husbands were in training. The cherubic little boy had seen no reason to distinguish between the two women he saw so very much of, and had called both women 'Mama'; later adding their first names thereafter as a matter of distinction. The Potters, and Sirius, had spent the best part of the previous two years trying to gently discourage the title being used, all knowing how particularly sensitive Annie was about such things; but nothing seemed to stop the boy from looking upon Lily as the second mother she practically was.

Frowning at the boy's choice of address – but flattered all the same – Lily refrained from pulling Aidan up on the slip on account of his sleepiness, but now that her husband seemed intent to rouse the child into full wakefulness, she was beginning to lose patience.  
"James, don't do that! You'll wake him up!" she swatted away her husband's poking fingers as the sound of Aidan giggling reached her ears.

"Aidy 'wake!" Aidan piped up, jerking his head from the soft pillow of Lily's shoulder to prove his consciousness. "Harry sleep! Not Aidy!"

"That's right," Lily admitted to the adorably scowling boy in her arms. "Harry is asleep, just as you _should _be, little man!"

"Aidy not little! Aidy getting big, 'emember Mama Lily?" protested Aidan, going rigid in the woman's arms, as though to extend himself to his full height and prove his point.

James let out a snort of amusement, and reached out for the squirming child.  
"Clever, kid... very clever," smirked James, accepting the smiling boy from his wife and holding him close. "Now c'mon, Pup, if you want to grow even bigger – like your Dad and Uncle _Prongs_ – then you need to get lots and lots of rest! You don't want to leave poor Harry all alone in that big cot, do you? Hey, how did you get out, anyway?"

Just as little Aidan looked about ready to launch into a long explanation of how he had mastered the railings of the enlarged cot, Lily grabbed their attention.  
"You can tell your Uncle James all about your exciting exploits first thing in the morning, my special _big_ boy; but right now it is frightfully past your bedtime," said Lily sternly, in her best no-nonsense tone. Holding her hands out, she gestured towards the nursery. "Now, which of us would you like to tuck you back in?"

With barely a moment's consideration, Aidan shot his godfather a sly look, his lips curling into a secretive little smile.  
"Uncle Pongs!" he said earnestly, wrapping his arms securely around the man's neck. Oblivious to the apologetic shrug his uncle gave his aunt, or the kiss the woman blew him as they departed, he unabashedly began to tell the senior Marauder all about his latest escape as the man carried him into the dimly lit nursery.

"Give me strength!" muttered Lily half-heartedly, lingering in the doorway to watch the silhouette of her husband tuck the prattling preschooler into bed. Deciding to give them a moment, she spun on her heels and stalked down the hallway, inwardly heartened by the latest display of the little boy's resilience.

* * *

"Thanks for taking him, Evans... how was he? His usual charming self, I hope?" said Sirius late the next afternoon, a napping Aidan in his arms. Even a stranger could have detected the underlying worry and hidden meaning of the father's words.

Lily smiled affably at her husband's best friend, inwardly shaking her head at the man's propensity for calling her by the name she'd not legally used for nearly three years. Reminding him of that fact was a mere folly, for Sirius addressing her by her maiden name was as much an endearment as the schoolyard monikers James and his friends still insisted on using amongst themselves. Giving him a careful shove instead – mindful not to wake the sleeping bundle of limbs in his arms – Lily regarded her son's godfather with a warm smile.  
"He's becoming more and more his father's son everyday," admitted Lily, reaching out and rubbing circles on the slumbering boy's back. "We're always happy to have him, you know that."

Shifting the weight of the son in his arms, Sirius smiled indulgently at the woman's comment and looked around to see if his best friend had anything to add. When he had seen that James had drifted out of earshot, a fussing Harry in tow, his expression turned grave.  
"I'm glad to hear that, Lil'," said Sirius with a tone of relief.

Lily, meanwhile, was instantly on edge, for it was very rare for the man before her to address her by her given name. Sure enough, the man had something on his mind, and he continued self-consciously; one eye fixed on James in the distance.  
"Listen, I know you're not an idiot. I know you've seen how Aidan winds up when I leave him alone with his mother," Sirius' voice trailed off as he took a shuddering breath and swallowed his pride. "Damn, Lily, you've no idea how difficult this is for me to admit this... we all knew Annie was the least ready to become a parent when I knocked her up... and it's becoming to be no secret that my love for her is one-sided..."  
He took a calming breath and closed his eyes as Lily placed a comforting hand on his arm. Forcing himself to relax, lest he start to hold his son too tightly and wake him up, the contrite Animagus forced himself to continue.  
"I thought that if I could only have a few days with her, spend some time with her one on one with Aidy out of the frame for a bit, that I could get through to her; understand why she completely ignores him when I am not there..." said Sirius, leaning in close to Lily, his voice barely above a whisper. A quick check to ensure that his son was truly asleep, and he shared his latest revelation with the child's doting godmother. "She doesn't love him, Lily. Either of us."

Blinking in discomfort, Lily reeled back slightly in surprise, her wide green eyes subconsciously seeking out her husband. She'd never _not_ gotten along with Sirius Black, but of her husband's friends, Remus had always been the one she had spoken to more freely. It surprised her that the man before her was able to see past his love of the woman, and her face flushed with guilt for having underestimated him; but her being right did little to make her comfortable with the situation she was being presented with.  
"I... I'm sorry to hear you think that, Sirius, truly I am," said Lily awkwardly. "I'll help in any way I can, but don't you think James would be better equipped..."

Sirius shook his head furiously and latched on to Lily's arm when she made to side-step him and head in the direction her husband had left.  
"No," he said resolutely. "Prongs is my brother in all but blood, but I don't know how he could help with this particular issue; he got the girl _he _loved. I can accept that Annie doesn't love me like I do her – well no, it's a little hard to deal with, but it's the least of my concerns – but her latest announcement has me over the barrel."

Lily mentally backed up, her eyes widening in a mix of shock and sympathy.  
"Wait, she actually told you... she told you that she didn't care for Aidan?" said Lily, mortified at how a mother could say such things about an adorable little boy.

"Oh no, she _cares_ for Aidan," drawled Sirius, delirious in his devastation. "In the small hours of the day when she isn't resenting him for tying her to me, or wishing he was someone else's son. Honestly, Evans, I am beginning to think my mother had more consideration! She needs help, Lily, and I have to be the one to give it to her; it's my fault she's so miserable... if I hadn't gotten her pregnant..."

"Fathering her son, no matter how unplanned it was, does not make you responsible for her outlook of life, Sirius!" said Lily imploringly, shaking her head firmly. "We make the most of what we are dealt, and if Annie cannot cope with her hand, then perhaps you and she ought to reinvent the wizarding world's stance on marriage absolution! The Muggle in me just cannot justify staying miserable all throughout my life because my partner doesn't want to make an effort when its needed!"

"I can't leave her, Lil'; it's just not done;" said Sirius with a sigh, though there was little doubt that he would ever leave the woman he had been infatuated with since their third year at Hogwarts; even if wizarding society condoned it. "Gryffindors don't quit."

"You got that right, Padfoot my friend," said James jovially, dusting his hands off as he strode back into the room, sans one grumpy toddler. "Pronglet took an age to convince into his cot. It seems a certain mini-Marauder-I-won't-name has shown him how to open the latch on the railings. Little rascal can climb out unassisted... at fifteen months! What did I miss? Oh, ooops... didn't realise the little prison breaker was asleep there, sorry, mate!"

"That's all right; Aidan can sleep through anything when he's this tired," said Sirius affectionately, holding back from adding '_...when he is safe in the arms of a loved one_'; though it remained equally true. "Evans and I were just discussing what to do with the little imp, actually. With Voldemort on the rise, and you lot set to go into hiding, I'm getting a tad anxious about leaving Aidan so unprotected when we're bound to become targets ourselves. And with you soon out of the picture, Prongs, Moody's going to need all wands accounted for... I was thinking that with you lot going under the Fidelius... well, what I mean to say, is... Annie'd have to stay with me in London to detract any suspicion – if people catch wind that Aidy's in hiding, they'll know he's with you and know to look for a couple with two kids – but I'm clutching at wand tips, I know... feel free to cut in any time..."

"All right, all right, I can take a hint!" said James, taking his not-so-subtle cue from his tongue-twisted friend. He gave the pleading Animagus a searching look, knowing full well that whilst the man's exemplified concerns all had merit, that there was likely a deeper reason to his reluctant request.

Clapping a hand on the man's shoulder in support, James was quick to assure the godfather of his child.  
"Anything we can do to help, Pads, you needn't ask," said James, exchanging a knowing look with his wife, who gave the slightest of confirming nods. "We're always happy to have Aidan come stay, for whatever reason, and for however long... we are his godparents, after all."

Sirius winced, his friend's loyal affirmation striking a sore point.  
"Thank you, Evans... Prongs..." he said sincerely, his head bowing slightly. "I am just sorry that I can't respond in kind with _my_ godson."

"Oh Sirius, you're a wonderful godfather!" said Lily, quick to remind the man of how much little Harry's face lit up on one of his godfather's visits. She patted him on the arm. "And we wouldn't expect you to take Harry overnight; not at his age, and certainly not in the middle of this _war_."

It was clear to all by Lily's intonation that she was referring to more than just the war when excusing Sirius' reluctance to become an over-night sitter. Apart from Sirius' unprecedented outpouring moments earlier, the subject of Annie – specifically her ability to be a mother – remained an unspoken taboo in front of the woman's beleaguered husband. Individually, concerns and suspicions about Annie's fragile state of mind had been privately pondered and fleetingly shared between spouses, but confrontation where it mattered was never forthcoming. Thankfully, Sirius had the good sense to volunteer his son to their protection, all under the believable guise of keeping the child safe from the 'war'... and not just his own mother.

Having turned to his messy-haired friend for more reassurance, and misreading the man's silence, Sirius began to retract his earlier request.  
"Well, I mean, I suppose it's not really that unsafe for Aidan at home... asides from that nasty business with my mother and Regulus a few years ago, he's not really on any radars... forget I said anything..." he said dismissively, heading towards the fireplace. "I'll get out of your hair. Wormtail's coming over tomorrow to do the Charm, right? It's all set?"

James looked bemused, and waved aside his friend's segue into the upcoming plans to place the Potter's safe house under Fidelius.  
"Padfoot... Sirius, did you not hear what I said? We're happy to have him, truly," said James, shaking his head in confusion. "Whether you want us to go into hiding with him or not is your choice. I'm sure Peter will have no trouble letting you in on his little secret, so you can visit all you want, and it'll be good for Harry to have someone to play with. Honestly, mate, we would be honoured..."

And so that was how Aidan Black came to be residing in the home of the Potters on the fateful night of Halloween, 1981.

End Chapter

A/N: Yes, I have a give-a-random-marauder-a-kid thing. No idea when the next chapter will come, I'm afraid. Evil work and all that jazz...


	2. A Power they Knew Not

**Disclaimer: Can you not half-tell I am a broody-bridget who wants to be the mother of Sirius Black's babies? LMAO And clearly, had I owned this, Sirius would have lived... **LOL

**Updated: Monday June 29 2009, because I am deflecting again and realise that though I should have done the work I brought home tonight, I can't very well escape said work tomorrow, so best make good use of my home time whilst I am home (even if the walls are falling down around me and sucking my bank account into the red... grrr)**

**Chapter II: A Power They Knew Not**

"Lily! It's him! Take Harry and go!" yelled a frantic James Potter, meeting his wife in the hallway as alarms outside heralded the arrival of the Dark Lord. Inwardly, his mind was reeling – '_Peter, what have you done?'_ - and he couldn't usher his family up the stairs fast enough. "Lily! Run! I'll hold him off!"

"James..." Lily's voice came out as a strangled sob, the infant in her arms feeding off the tension and choosing that moment to start whimpering. Both mother and son seemed to know that it would be the last time they'd set eyes upon their husband and father again; Lily placing the distance between herself and her protector only for the sake of the child in her arms. Spotting Aidan loitering at the foot of the stairs, looking indecisively between his honorary aunt and uncle in turn, she beckoned for the boy to follow, trying not to sound too insistent as she called out to him over her shoulder. "Come along, Aidy... quickly now..."

Aidan's eyes drifted from Lily's retreating form, to the stoic stance of his father's best friend. Reaching the conclusion that his godmother had Harry, whilst his godfather was all alone, he stood firm; little hands clenching into white-knuckled fists as he mirrored James' actions, facing the door.  
"Bad man comin' Uncle James," he said quietly, his careful application of James' given name belying his understanding of just how dire circumstances were. "Aidy help."

His guarded, determined eyes tearing away from the door to favour his godson one last time, James could not stop the single tear from falling. The failing wards outside telling him that he had no time to drop to one knee and embrace the terrified, but fiercely loyal and stubborn child that had remained by his side, he regretted that his parting words to the boy he loved as a son would be so necessarily harsh.  
"Aidan Sterne Black, _get upstairs_!" he barked at the boy, wincing with guilt as Aidan flinched at both his tone and use of the boy's full name. Chancing a hand atop the child's head – his other hand keeping his wand firmly trained at the door – he tried to reassure the lad. "Your Aunt Lily needs your help, buddy. She can't protect Harry all on her own, so go!"

Flinching again – this time as a splinter of wood flew from the hinges of the heavy wooden door that stood between man, child and evil itself – Aidan chanced a quick hug to his godfather's legs, loudly declared his love for him, and promptly Disapparated upstairs in a remarkable feat of Accidental Magic. Momentarily stunned by the child's achievement and equal parts relieved and hopeful – relieved that the boy was out of sight and hopeful that the subconscious spell had taken him far, far away – James Potter was aware of only one thing as the Dark Lord burst into the room and threw a line of green light directly into his chest: his godson's parting words, echoing over and over in his mind.

"I love you, Uncle _Prongs_."

* * *

"Aidan, sweet Circe, don't ever do that again!" said Lily shrilly, lowering her wand. The scared little boy had Apparated right in front of Harry's cot when her back had been turned, prompting her to reel around defensively, a not-so-light curse rolling off her lips. It had been a testament to her years of consorting with Quidditch players and pranksters that she had been able to stop herself before any harmful spell could be cast.

Abandoning the search for the mislaid Portkey – never to realise that her family's traitor had filched it, along with all the others, on his most recent visit – Lily placed Harry in his cot and rushed across the room, scooping Aidan up and kicking open the closet with her foot. Setting him down, she readied her wand.  
"Hold still," she murmured, tapping the boy on the head with her wand as she cast a Disillusionment Spell, the tell-tale sensation of the spell taking effect causing the child to shudder slightly. Nudging him, then, into the cupboard, she begged for the child's cooperation.  
"You have to stay hidden, Aidy, it's the only way," she explained in a panicked whisper. The footsteps were on the stairs now, she could tell. "Promise me you'll stay quiet and in this cupboard until they're all gone. No matter what happens! _Promise me_, Aidy!"

"I love you, Mama Lily," said Aidan in a quivering voice, wrapping his arms around his beloved godmother's neck and giving her a quick squeeze before letting go and backing into the closet voluntarily. The astute four-year-old may never have been faced with such horrors before, but he didn't seem to be having any trouble identifying them. "Aidy hide. Harry too!"

"Yes, yes, Aidy hide," said Lily, choking back her tears – she would never get to see her own little boy grow to be Aidan's age. When she made no move to fetch Harry from his crib and deposit him at the boy's side, she had to be quick to stop the older boy from helping himself. "No, no, Aidy! He's expecting Harry and I to be here, but he'll not look for you. I'll protect Harry until the bad man goes away... then it's your turn to watch out for him; so I need you to stay hidden. Do you think you can do that for me?"  
At Aidan's solemn nod, Lily kissed the boy's forehead, before standing up and heading back towards her son's cot, suddenly overcome with the urge to hold her own son once more. She chanced one last look at the little boy who, whilst now barely visible under her Charm, she could tell had not moved from the closet.  
"Promise me, Aidan. Promise me you'll not move until they're gone! Promise me you'll grow up to protect my Harry!"

"I promise," a voice, seemingly from thin air, met Lily's ears a split second before the door to Harry's nursery burst open.

"Stand aside, silly girl!" Lord Voldemort roared at the defiant mother that stood between himself and his goal.

"No! Not my Harry! Take me! Leave my son alone!" pleaded Lily, knowing her pleas would fall on deaf ears, but knowing that they were necessary to ultimately ensure her son's protection.

"Step away, you silly girl, and live!" insisted the Dark Lord in silky tones. "It's the boy I came for!"

"Never!" hissed Lily, her eyes drifting away from the Dark Lord as she turned away from him, placing herself bodily between the son in her arms and any spell the evil wizard might care to cast. Out of sight of Lord Voldemort, she fixed her eyes on the crack in the closet door, where she knew her godson to be hiding. Mouthing the word 'promise' to him as a final reminder of his vow, she fell gracefully as the Dark Lord's Killing Curse struck her from behind, the woman caught blissfully unaware by the attack and remaining forever oblivious to the widening of horrified grey eyes.

Having accurately read the lips of his dying godmother, Aidan obediently stayed hidden even after Harry had fallen into his cot, left to face the Dark Lord alone; Lily's unmoving body lying crumpled on the floor. He could only watch in muted terror, his little hands gripping the hems of his red 'Auror' pyjama cloak around him in fear, as the evil Lord Voldemort attempted to repeat the fatal curse unto Harry.  
'_Please don't die, Harry! Don't die, Harry... please, please, please, please, please...' _Aidan's mind chanted over and over, begging to an unseen force for his little godbrother to be spared. He squeezed his eyes shut as the man's wand swished through the air, the beginnings of green light peeking from its tip; only to scream out in pain and surprise when an explosion rocked the room.

* * *

When Aidan Black was next aware of his surroundings, he was lying in the cupboard that had been knocked sideways, his fall cushioned by the clothes and blankets within. He was surrounded by splinters of wood, and his clothes were coated with masonry dust and soot. Chancing a peek around the room, Aidan was relieved to find the mean old man gone; nothing but a wand and pile of robes in their place. Crawling his way out of the pile of once-clean clothes that had fallen with him when the cupboard was knocked over with him inside it, he started to cough and splutter uncontrollably as the shifting material disturbed the particles in the air, earning him a lungful of smoke and dust. The sound prompted an easily overlooked rodent to transform.  
"What are you doing here, Aidan?" Peter Pettigrew stared at the four-year-old in surprise. Though no conscious effort had been made to conceal Aidan's extended visit from the Potter's Secret Keeper, Wormtail was hardly what one could call, 'observant'.

Narrowing his eyes in suspicion as he caught the man's furtive glance towards the pile of robes that once resembled the most feared Dark wizard of the modern age, Aidan let his instincts guide him. Backing up until he was standing protectively in front of the quietly whimpering toddler the Dark Lord had come for, he scowled; doing his best impersonation of his gallant Uncle James.  
"You bad, Wormtail!" he declared in a childish, but firm, tone. "G'way!"

Affronted by the look of hatred burning in the small boy's eyes, Peter Pettigrew looked from Aidan, to the bloodied face of the simpering Harry, to Lily's body, and then, finally, to what little remained of his master. Realising that it would only be a matter of time before Sirius or the Ministry answered the call of the wards and discovered what was left of the house, the rat Animagus scuttled forwards and, retrieving his master's wand, promptly transformed and disappeared into the rubble.

Eyes glistening with anger, little hands balled into fists on his hips in what was a subconscious homage to the fallen woman on the floor before him, Aidan Black scowled at the fleeing form of his father's good friend. His juvenile ruminations were interrupted, however, by Harry's frantic call.  
"Mama!" the green-eyed boy had crawled over towards his mother, blood dripping from his forehead, chubby hands now tugging at the lifeless woman's robes. "Mama! A-idy!"

Realising that his new responsibility was only just beginning, Aidan Black squared his shoulders and rushed towards the little boy he loved like a brother. Biting back his own sobs, he silently pried Lily's wand from her fingers and tugged Harry away from her body; leading him into a corner of the room that seemed less damaged than the rest. The cot had overturned in the explosion, creating a sturdy little alcove from the elements; and most importantly, it shielded them from having to look upon Lily's dead body.  
"C'mon Harry. We hide now," he coaxed and soothed the bewildered toddler with gentle pats and nonsense words; distractedly murmuring abstracts of nursery rhymes whilst his own limited mind struggled to come up with the next course of action.

Crawling into the upturned cot behind Harry, he draped the soft fleece of his pyjama cloak over them both and began to rock the boy in his lap to sleep, one hand pressed over the fresh wound on the child's forehead as he shed silent tears of his own. His other hand wrapped firmly around his godmother's wand, brave little Aidan forced himself to stay awake, whilst little Harry fell into uneasy slumber.  
"Aidy look after you now. I promise," he vowed sleepily, dulled grey eyes snapping open into attention as the roar of a motorcycle filled the skies.

* * *

"Aidan, you and Harry have to go to Hogwarts," explained a distraught Sirius in a weary tone. After tearing through the house to find his best friends dead and the children cowering in what was left of Harry's nursery, he was particularly on edge. "You have to let Hagrid take you!"

"No! Daddy go too!" said Aidan, looking as though he had wanted to grab hold of his father, but not willing to let go of Harry in order to do so. "Please, Daddy don't go!"

Sirius' heart broke. Even when he knew that his mother would not take care of him, and a weekend with his godparents or better yet his father was a better alternative, Aidan had never begged. To see his son in such distress was hardly surprising, under the circumstances, but as painful as it was to separate himself from his son at that moment, he knew that when the boy grew, he'd understand why his father had to go after the man who had betrayed the Potters. It had curdled Sirius' blood to think that James and Lily had been betrayed by one of their own, Aidan's fractured account of the event upon his arrival confirming his worst suspicions. He was subsequently sickened by the thought of the Dark Lord having been so close to his beloved son and godson. Running a shaking hand through his hair, he looked over at the Hogwart's gatekeeper hopelessly.  
"Looks like we're doing this the hard way," he informed the burly wizard, wrapping his own cloak around both boys like a blanket, until only their heads were showing. "You can take my bike... they'll travel better."

"What a'bou' ye?" the confused half-giant frowned.

"Don't worry about me; I won't be needing the bike," said Sirius grimly, his mind set on revenge.

"No Daddy! Daddy no!" yelled Aidan, his voice hoarse from crying. He tried to untangle himself from the cloak, but it was no use; Sirius having covertly added a few spells in his actions to secure the boys for the journey ahead.

"Hey... hey... don't be all like that, you'll wake Harry!" said Sirius, trying his best to placate the child without having to resort to Stupefying the boy. He reached down and brushed way sweaty locks of hair. "You're working yourself up over nothing... anyone would think you didn't like poor Hagrid! C'mon, Pup... you're always asking for a ride on my bike! I won't be long, really I won't!"

But before he could quickly Disapparate in pursuit of Wormtail, a small hand made its way out of the cloak and grasped at his thumb, hauling him back. Looking down to see his son looking up at him with lost, teary eyes, the grieving Marauder bowed his head and closed his eyes.  
"I have to go, Aidy," he said in a strained voice, trying not to let his impatience show. He gently wrestled his hand from his son's grip; a stab of pain piercing through his already crushed heart when the action caused a flicker of betrayal to settle on his beloved boy's face. He shook his head slowly, pleading for Aidan to understand. "I have... I have to go after the bad man..."

"No! Stay!" whined Aidan.

Granted the luxury of _not_ having a Dark Lord banging down his door at that very moment, Sirius took the time James never had, and knelt before his son. Resting a hand on either shoulder – pausing only to ruffle Harry's hair as the sleepy toddler stirred from Aidan's harsh tone – he locked eyes with his little boy.  
"No, Pup. I have to go..." he held up a hand as the boy opened his mouth to protest. "Leave it, Aidy-boy. Go with Harry and Hagrid to Hogwarts, your mother will know to fetch you from there. I'll be home by morning, I promise..."

Wide grey eyes looked up at Sirius, full of hope. Little did either of them realise at the time, that the breaking of that promise would drive father and son apart, for years to come.

* * *

In the time it had taken Hagrid to make the cross-country journey to Hogwarts on the back of Sirius' flying motorcycle, the bike's vengeful owner had made his attempt at retribution and been framed by his friends' betrayer. Confronted with the realisation that Annie Black was now a single mother, questions were fast being raised about the woman's ability to care for a child on her own.

"I went there, as you said, and found no sign of her," said Minerva McGonagall in a disproving voice; they had been unable to find Annie Black in the hours since her husband's arrest – or indeed a number of hours beforehand. The old woman shook her head. "Albus, the house was a shambles! I cannot in good conscience turn over the fate of two small children to a home like that. The woman is either on the verge of a breakdown, or in the midst of one."

"You can tell all of this, just by the state of her home?" said Albus, disbelievingly. He popped a lemon drop into his mouth and regarded the two sleeping children on the sofa of his office with a sad smile. "Alas, only Aidan will be returning to his mother. Young Harry will have to go to his mother's Muggle sister..."

"But Annie is his guardian, by default!" said McGonagall, aghast at both options.

"I daresay Mrs Black has enough difficulties accepting the presence of her own son in her life, let alone an additional orphaned child," said Albus gravely. "I shall be making arrangements for Mrs Black and young Aidan to reside on school property, so that we may keep an eye on the child's welfare, but I do not think it wise for Harry to grow in an environment where everyone will be awed by his name."

Before the disgruntled witch could protest, the door swung open to reveal Hogwarts' newest Potions Master. The man swept into the room, only to halt mid-step upon seeing whose children were lying prone on the couch. The headmaster stood gracefully, to meet him.  
"Ah, Severus!" he said, an unreadable expression on his face. "Could you, perchance, take charge of young Aidan here, whilst Minerva and I see to Harry's safe delivery to his Muggle relatives? Annie seems to be a little waylaid..."

Severus Snape had been about to respond in the negative, but the mention of the former classmate who he had come close to accepting the love he'd realised would never come from Lily caused him to narrow his eyes in consideration. He may have completely dismissed any chance of learning to love the woman in return after she had foolishly tried to save her pride at his initial rejection by sleeping with – and falling pregnant by - Black, but the woman was Lily's friend. And despite the fact she'd married Potter and ultimately gotten herself killed because of it, there wasn't a lot he wouldn't do for the neighbourhood girl who'd once seen past his ungainly smocks and extended the hand of friendship.

Confronted with the news of her husband's incarceration, Severus doubted that Annie would be able to deal with an inquisitive three, no, _four_ year-old just yet. He didn't think he could cope with the undoubtedly precocious progeny of his nemesis any better, but then the small part of him that thrilled with the prospect of staging the ultimate revenge upon Black was willing to overlook the likeness the boy bore to its father if it meant getting the man where it hurt. For there was no doubt Annie would now take advantage of her liberation from Black and pursue him... invite him to be the father she'd wanted for her child.

But could he go that far? To strike at the heart of Black? Or was this an inevitability he was prepared to let happen because it'd be something Lily would have wanted for him... the love of a woman, and a happy family...

But then what of Lily's actual flesh and blood? Had Dumbledore really thought things through when proposing Petunia Evans – or whatever her married name was now – raise the savior of the world that had not accepted her?

As though sensing the younger wizard's hesitation, but misinterpreting the cause, Albus sought to allay the man's fears.  
"I placed him under a Sleeping Charm myself, Severus. He will not wake until the morning," Albus assured him, crossing his office and reaching out for the younger of the two dark-haired boys. Following his lead, Severus made to collect Aidan, albeit a little more awkwardly, but both men were caught unaware by the emerald green bubble that encased both children when they tried to separate them.

To further their surprise, a very wide-awake Aidan sat up protectively, scowling at the two wizards; the shield around him appearing to be a rather spectacular demonstration of Accidental Magic. Their attempts to placate the defensive boy were quickly shot down by the determined child.  
"No! Aidy _promised_!" said Aidan, trying his hardest to make the adults trying to separate him from Harry, understand. "Aidy's turn to look after Harry! Mama Lily said so!"

Noticing a green glow outlining Aidan's hands as they hauled the sleeping Harry onto his lap, hugging the younger boy to him with his arms wrapped around the baby's chest, and verifying the contact as the origin of the shield keeping them at bay, Albus Dumbledore began to reconsider.  
"Aidan," he said in his most cajoling voice. "May I see your memory of making that promise? Will you show me what happened tonight?"

"Albus! You cannot call upon a _child_ to relive such horrors!" Minerva McGonagall chose that moment to intervene. "I will not allow it!"

Quickly explaining his suspicions with his deputy, outlining just why there was no other choice but to take the reluctant foray into the child's mind for confirmation, Albus sought the woman's approval. The Gryffindor head once again placing her trust in her superior, the venerable headmaster then leveled his wand at the bewildered Aidan. When his efforts to penetrate the boy's mind were met with rudimentary, but restrictive barriers – quite possibly because of the shield that surrounded the children still - he could not hide his surprise; turning to his fellow Occlumens for assistance.

When Minerva McGonagall realised that Albus and Severus both would be attempting Legilimency upon the preschooler's mind, she looked horrified.  
"Not two!" she cried out, but it was too late, the men having already wordlessly sent their spells towards the little boy; the little boy who had just happened to look up at them in curiosity, making eye contact.

They were in.

Words could not describe the myriad of emotions that threatened to overcome both seasoned war veteran and reformed Death Eater alike. Though they had become desensitised to death over the years, neither would consider themselves human to remain unaffected by the fact that the scenes they were witnessing were taken from the perspective of a mere child. As it turned out, both James and Lily had, in turn, called upon their godson to watch over their child. Whether they had intended the words to be meaningful or not, they would never know, but the serious way in which Aidan had weighted the couple's dying requests was all it took; a powerful bond had been brokered. Dumbledore realised that it would be very foolhardy indeed to try and separate the two boys without further investigation. Reaching this tentative decision – a final choice could not be made without giving due consideration to the abilities of Aidan's mother and the obstacles that raising the sure to be famous survivors of Voldemort's downfall in the wizarding world would bring – Albus Dumbledore looked over at his youngest member of staff.  
"Severus, I am afraid I am going to have to ask you an even bigger favour..." he said slowly, his eyes flicking meaningfully from both children to Severus in silent question. Even though they had just been spared the journey to Surrey for that night at least, neither the headmaster nor his deputy were in any kind of shape to babysit the two small children until their mother and guardian could be located; so much more needed to be done.

Severus' eyes narrowed contemptuously, the fact the Potter boy had just witnessed his mother's death... _Lily's_ death... may have drawn an ounce of sympathy from him, but it wasn't nearly enough to make him agree with what the headmaster was hinting at. Especially not when the Dark Lord would not have come after Lily at all, had the boy not been born.  
"No. Absolutely not!" he scowled. Lily's son or not, he couldn't overlook who the child's father was anymore than he could forgive the fact that the toddler was the entire reason his love's killer had sought her out. He would watch over Aidan, if only to rub it in Black's face at some later date, but the Potter brat could stay in the infirmary for all he cared; he was certain it would not be so difficult to assure the older boy that his new shadow would be safe there on his own.

They had gotten as far as the school nurse's office, the journey painfully long and slow with Aidan insisting on walking himself whilst carrying a sleeping toddler only inches shorter than him, when it became apparent that no, Aidan did not trust the hospital wing to keep 'his Harry' safe. When Madam Pomfrey emerged from her quarters, intent upon examining the new arrivals, the lingering green aura around the two children thickened until it almost completely obscured the boys within; anyone who touched the barrier, drawing their hands away, burned.  
"Amazing!" said the nurse breathlessly, gasping in awe. She circled the green sphere slowly, smiling reassuringly when the suspicious preschooler within turned with her. Catching Severus' eye, she shook her head in disbelief. "It's not just a myth!"

"What's not a myth?" said Severus, disliking it when he was missing something important. Dumbledore had changed his mind about separating the boys rather quickly, and had not given Severus the benefit of an explanation. "Poppy, do you know what this is?"

"A living sacrifice," murmured Poppy, her eyes wide. Blinking at what that meant, she snapped her head up at the wizard who brought the children and frowned. "Severus, who are these children?"

"Aidan Black and Harry Potter," said Severus with a slight snarl of distaste. "Hagrid brought them direct from Godric's Hollow. The boy is to remain here for treatment, and Aidan's to stay with me until his mother can be located to take them both."

"I'm afraid that's not going to happen, Severus," said Poppy in a bemused voice. "That shield won't go away until the threat of separation is gone. I'm guessing either James or Lily died in front of them, throwing themselves in front of a curse meant for one of the boys."

"Lily – how did you know?" said Severus, unable to hide his surprise. Whilst details of the Potter's death and Voldemort's downfall had filled the WWN bulletins all evening, such specifics were yet to become public knowledge. No one knew of the survival of the Potter heir, and Aidan Black had yet to be placed at the scene at all; his presence considered unlikely in light of his father's apparent betrayal.

"Whoever it was, the power of their sacrifice transferred to Aidan," said Poppy in continued awe. "His love and instinct to protect little Harry was – is – equal to that which Lily felt in her final moments, enabling the transfer. It truly is precious..."

Leaving Aidan where he stood, holding the still sleeping Potter child in his weary arms, Severus swept over to the nearest potions supply cupboard, for lack of anything else better to do.  
"They are bound together for as long as the boy continues to feel the same," he stated levelly, his long slender fingers counting the vials of Pepper Up, doing an impromptu inventory as he fought to wrap his mind around this latest revelation. Aidan Black had just moved up on the list of the Dark Lord's enemies, and all for something his Lily had already given her life for. Despite the fact the evil wizard in question was presently incapable of posing a tangible threat, there still remained a great number of his followers who would actively seek to avenge their master by attacking the boy Voldemort had failed to kill. When it became known that the boy was seemingly untouchable because of this bond that had been created between the child and Aidan Black, neither child would ever be completely safe again.

Horrified by the thought of Lily's death being in vain, Severus knew that his options were limited. The only way to give his love's death some meaning would be to keep the children safe... send them as far away from Britain as possible; or give them all new identities and spread the word that Harry Potter had died in the hours following the attack. The latter option would remain the only way in which he personally could maintain a stake in ensuring Lily's legacy was upheld, and if that meant succumbing to Annie's advances, and tolerating the kin of his schoolyard enemies, then perhaps it existed as something he had to do. But he knew he had to act fast, to exert his input in to the situation, else Dumbledore decide otherwise; deny him the ability to demonstrate to Lily – wherever she was now, in the afterlife – just how much he would always be prepared to do for her.

"Severus, where are you going?" the surprised medi-witch called after him.

The departing wizard was unaware of his feet moving across the floor until the woman had called on him to explain. Not bothering to slow his step, he called over his shoulder from the doorway of the ward.  
"I have a pressing matter to discuss with Dumbledore," he informed the woman, bound for her Floo connection. If the children were to gain any protection from anonymity, then time was of the essence. "Don't let anyone see the children! Keep them with you; in your office if you must!"

Confused by the Potions Master's sudden departure – the man had even left the door of the supply cupboard wide open – Poppy Pomfrey could only comply with his parting request, setting aside her questions for later. Gesturing for the quietly observing boy to bring Harry along to her office, she left the hospital wing and led her two secret patients into a small side room off her office. Inside, the small day-bed that she kipped on when patients needed round-the-clock care was positioned closest to the door; the rest of the room set aside as a mini Potions Lab and storage area.

Turning down the bedsheets, she coaxed the exhausted four-year-old and his sleeping friend into the bed before busying herself with securing away anything that may harm a small child. The shield, she had not failed to notice, had begun to fade, and would likely disappear altogether once the child's mother had arrived and convinced her son that he and Harry would be kept together. Until then, she could do nothing to treat either child, except to make sure that they got some rest and felt comfortable and safe.

Settling herself down in a cushioned rocking chair at the foot of the bed, she picked up her knitting and began to hum a lullaby. Watching her intently from the bed, Aidan Black must have recognised the tune; the tense guardedness fading from his eyes as he hugged the oblivious Harry closer to him and began to relax; his tired grey eyes drooping closed at last. Fighting the urge to sit beside the children and run her hands through the older boy's hair comfortingly – the shield would likely disallow such contact and only startle the child – Poppy doubled her efforts with the lullaby, her gentle humming soon turning into audible words as the soft click-click of her knitting needles provided their gentle accompaniment.

"...lay your head down  
the stars they have whispered  
Hear what they say..."

End Chapter

A/N: Next chapter we skip forward in time to the summer before Harry's third year. How do you think Aidan and Harry will turn out? Will they even know each other? Discuss. (Sorry I *have* been formatting high school mid-term examinations for Muggle teachers who are as anti-computer as a Pureblood bigot).


	3. 12 Years On

**Disclaimer: No amount of wishful thinking would ever make it so...**

**Updated: Monday 13 July, 2009 in time-passing celebration of the fact I am getting to see a preview screening of HBP in, oooooh... less than three hours :D  
**

**A/N: Something didn't quite sit right with me, about this chapter. A lot of exposition... some I've cut out, so if things start to appear holey in later chapters, that'll be why. Hopefully I was judicious with the edit and things will continue to come together as intended.  
**

**Chapter III: Twelve Years On...**

"All right Aidy, what's next?" the impish eleven-year-old looked up to her big brother in question, the wavy red-brown hair she'd inherited from her mother reluctantly pinned back at the boy's request. She had gotten her Hogwarts letter barely a month earlier, and was intent on learning as much as possible before hand; starting with her step-father's class.

The boy known as Adrian Prince looked up from his cauldron patiently, hardened grey eyes carefully taking in all that the excited girl had completed so far. To those who did not know him, the tall sixteen year old appeared quite intimidating. Standing at just over six feet tall, he'd towered over his class mates ever since a growth spurt over Christmas in his fourth year. Dark silky locks fell to the bottom of his neck, haphazardly framing his face and tickling his chin; hiding, but not completely obscuring the deep scar down his left cheek - a souvenir from an unwanted visit to his grandmother at age seven. His sharp aquiline features and imposing scar may have been enough to scatter the first years in his path, but it was his eyes that averted the gaze of most all of his teachers and classmates alike. Whilst still a child by any definition of the law, the eldest son of Annelie Prince had seen more horrors, and taken on more responsibility, than many adults over twice his age.

"You gotta add the diced Mandrake," drawled another voice boorishly, its owner languishing on the wide window sill behind them, one leg stretched across the length of the stone whilst the other dangled impatiently off the ledge. Henry Prince placed a finger in the pages of the Quidditch book he was reading and pushed his reading glasses up the bridge of his nose, looking over at the pair hovering over the nearby workbench. "Honestly, Aidan, are you going to assess every little thing she does before spoon feeding her the next step? What's the point? You know all Severus does in class is spell all the instructions on the board and strut around glaring at all the Gryffindorks!"

"Severus doesn't '_strut_', he '_stalks_', Henry," the older boy shot his fellow Slytherin a pointed look as he reminded the boy of their house master's preference. "And maybe I just want to ensure that Ailith knows what she is doing – understanding the properties of each ingredient may not be as important in first year, as you know, but it will help exponentially in future."

Henry Prince backed off at his brother's glare; though technically the older boy was not really his brother. Outside of his immediate 'family', only three people alive knew that Adrian and Henry Prince were really Aidan Black and Harry Potter. Sure enough, people in close circles called the younger of the two Harry anyway – it being an acceptable derivative of the name on his school records – but Aidan had always been a little put out by having to go by another name in public, and was steadily outgrowing the endearing childhood nickname that could apply to either name he went by. Whilst Henry had only one when their families were torn apart, and didn't remember much of anything before coming to live at Hogwarts with the boy he'd never consider as anything less than a brother, Aidan had been four, going on five, and had not taken well to coming to live with the likes of Severus Snape and going by a name that was not his own.

The man they now all regarded as a step-father was not really related to Harry in any such way; nor was he the cousin of his wife's dead husband - as had been Annie Black's cover – but he had rounded off their mismatched little family anyway. The boys and pregnant mother of one had come to live at Hogwarts with her 'cousin-in-law' after the 'death' of her husband; it being common amongst pureblood lines for the care of minor children and wives to fall into the hands of the closest living male heir if the husband was otherwise disposed. It had been the only legitimate course of action Severus had seen possible, to avail himself to watching over those Lily had given her life for, without playing a direct role in raising the boys. Of course, no one – not even the woman herself - had known Annie Black, now Annelie Prince, had been pregnant at the time of her husband's incarceration and would spiral into a post partum depression so unpredictable, so endangering of the children in her care, that Severus had had no choice but to accept a more paternal role. For unlike Sirius Black, whose blind love for the same woman had allowed him to overlook his wife's feelings towards he and his son, horrors in Severus' own childhood had rendered him particularly intolerant of any attempt to harm children – especially ones the unrequited love of his life had died for.

"I don't see why we're stuck inside brewing potions on a day like today, anyway!" whined Harry petulantly. "It's perfect flying weather out there! I gotta practice my moves if I'm to keep my place on the team – I don't want to give up my Nimbus 2001!"

"Oh, I'm sure there's another rich wannabe Quidditch star whose father will furnish the team with Firebolts before the year is out," drawled Aidan, the audacity of his young brother's classmate to effectively buy his way onto their House team still rubbing a sore spot. "I bet you could keep your precious Nimbus then."

"Yeah, but if that happens, I'd get a _Firebolt _for staying on the team!" said Harry incredulously. "Ailith could have my Nimbus, then."

The girl in question dropped her ladle in surprise and spun around to face her brother, wide eyed.

"Really, Harry?" she squealed, running into his arms and hugging him excitedly. "My very own Nimbus?"

"Not until second year," said Aidan firmly, horrified at the thought of his fragile sister taking to the sky.

The circumstances of Ailith's premature birth had cursed her with a sickly childhood. Plagued by respiratory illnesses for as long as any of them could remember, it had been her constant need for medicines that had driven Aidan to excel in Potions; the boy setting aside the differences he had for his unlikely guardian and insisting on first observing, and later learning, each and every potion Severus brewed for the child. Between the Potion Master's skill, and Aidan's attentive diligence, little Ailith's life had been saved on more than one occasion. Strictly speaking, the undersized little girl was too fragile for a lot of things - something that ailed the rambunctious tear-away to no end; especially when she got to see the like-minded Harry taking to the skies at every opportunity.

Returning to her elder brother's side, she stirred in the diced Mandrake as Harry had suggested, and rolled her eyes.  
"What now, Aidy?" she said with a sigh, suddenly disinterested in the potion her brother was trying to teach her; the promise of sneaking a ride on Harry's broom firmly within grasp.

"Now, you let me finish up the brew whilst you and Harry go make the most of the '_perfect flying weather_," said Aidan with a sigh, shooing his sister away from the bench and smirking as Harry almost fell off the window ledge in his haste to leave. His lips curling into a full-blown smile as the younger pair eyed him suspiciously, he shook his head in mirth. It wasn't very often that he smiled, and it amused him to no end when people immediately assumed foul play when he did. "Go on! I'll catch up... a little flying never hurt anyone. I could use a bit of sun myself. But no Bludgers, okay? You're still too small, Ailee'."

Doubling back from the end of the bench to wrap her arms around her brother's waist, Ailith raised herself up on her tip toes and scowled at the height difference.  
"I wouldn't be so short if you'd just brew me that growth potion!" she said sweetly, batting her thick lashes over her bright green eyes – eyes similar to Harry's but distinctly her own. "Just one dose, and I'll be the same height as all my classmates!"

"Absolutely out of the question!" a stern voice from the doorway let its presence be known, the man's shadow cast over them as he pushed off against the door frame and stalked towards them, his arms crossed over his chest. The potion in question had been used extensively when Ailith was small, its prescription necessary to accelerate the girl's growth beyond the point where she would no longer be in mortal danger from a common cold. There were only so many times a witch or wizard could rely upon growth potions and other nutritional supplements to thrive, and Severus had pushed the limits as much as he could; but it was never enough for the little girl who was exceptionally self-conscious about her lack of stature.

"Severus," acknowledged Aidan, standing to attention and placing a comforting hand on his sister's shoulder. "She was only fooling around. You know I would never condone administering a course of treatment without medical advice."

Severus unfolded his hands and sighed, his entire body slumping slightly. It had become almost instinctive for him to react in such a way when the health of one of the children was concerned, but it pained him that Aidan remained so guarded. These days, being looked upon as a father was more than just getting one over on their real fathers, or stepping in and doing what Lily might have wanted... he found he had developed a true paternal instinct. Forcing aside the impassive mask his students were most familiar with him wearing, he strove to reassure Aidan that they were on the same side.  
"I know full well you would not seek to harm your sister," said Severus stiffly. His dark eyes landed on the small, insistent girl in question. "I was directing my tone to those among us who have difficulty understanding the meaning of the word 'no'."

Frowning as his sister giggled fearlessly at their stepfather, Aidan remained rigid.  
"I know that, Sir," he said curtly, regressing even further with the formal address. "I apologise if my tone was defensive."

Severus cast his eyes skyward and exhaled sharply, choosing to let the matter drop for the moment. Ever since Black had landed himself in Azkaban, Aidan had become extremely self-sufficient, not trusting anyone other than himself to see to the wellbeing and happiness of those he held dear. Sirius' betrayal and the deaths of his beloved godparents had cut a wound that would never truly heal in the stubborn child, and it certainly didn't help matters that Annie had never exhibited an attachment to her son, and as much as tried to murder the boy's sister before she had been born. She made a concerted effort after her marriage to Severus, the woman heartened by the promise of a union with the man she'd always loved and the realisation that her unplanned children no longer stood in the way of her dreams. A visit to the medi-witch shortly after Aidan's seventh birthday quickly changed all that, though; the news that the circumstances of her latest birth had rendered her incapable of bearing further children spiralling her into a renewed depression. Her resentfulness towards the children she'd borne to a man she didn't love escalated into dangerous hate, and almost ended their lives after she foolishly surrendered her children to their paternal grandmother.

When plotting to fake the death of Harry Potter and hide the identity of the boy bound to protect him, no one had paused to consider the ancient tapestry that hung in the decaying house of Black. Walburga Black had cast out her firstborn son before he'd even completed his NEWTS, but when her beloved Regulus showed no interest in carrying on the family line in favour of serving the Dark Lord, and word had gotten out that Sirius had sired a child, the woman had been desperate to claim the boy as her own. Enlisting her son and a few of his Death Eater acquaintances to stage a kidnapping of the then 18-month-old, the plot had been foiled when Aidan was unable to be found at his parent's home – he had likely been with his godparents that weekend. When Regulus Black had been killed several months later, the ailing Black matriarch no longer had the resources to get her hands on her estranged grandson, and the threat of her continued existence was largely ignored. No one had considered that the children's slightly irrational mother still had the ability to call upon any of the Black House Elves, or that she would actually have the mind to exploit that connection by ousting her unwanted offspring onto Kreacher, Walburga Black's personal elf.

Seventeen months.

Seventeen months it had taken Severus to discreetly reacquire custody of the missing pair. Even though he was believed to be dead by the general wizarding public, Harry was sent to his Muggle relatives as a precaution; the blood protection they could offer the boy second only to the bond he and the missing Aidan shared. Had they been prepared to reveal the real identities of the children, and place Annie's suitability as a mother under the scrutiny of the Wizengamot, they could have fought for the children by official means. But with Annie's history and indifferent disposition, it was entirely too likely that legally, a member of the paternal family would come out on top; thus necessitating the convoluted process of trying to snatch the children back.

In the end, it had been Aidan who had gotten both himself and his sister out of the prison that was Grimmauld Place. Over almost the entire course of their stay, the industrious little boy had secretly collected spilled grains of Floo Powder; painstakingly collecting enough of the precious substance until he had enough to simply Floo he and his sister home. The scar on his cheek had occurred when they had been caught making their escape; the enraged Walburga taking to her grandson with a iron poker in a failed bid to haul the children out of the grate. Ailith and Aidan had tumbled out onto the hearth bloodied and dirty, covered in soot and tears.

Walburga Black, blessedly, died shortly thereafter.

That the youngest children had returned with little memory of Annie was barely a loss for either woman or child, but it had crushed Severus to see both pairs of little green eyes staring up at him with wary unfamiliarity. Whilst Ailith clung to Aidan night and day, clearly traumatised by whatever the deranged Walburga Black had put her grandchildren through, Harry had come back from his Muggle relatives inexplicably withdrawn and skittish; the green eyes that belonged first to his Lily now favouring him with wary betrayal.

Observing his unofficial son as the meticulous Potions brewer oversaw two bubbling cauldrons, the boy never having abandoned or rushed a potion just because the temptation of play was on the horizon, Severus remained in the lab even though the younger two children had left.  
"Are you going to stand there and ogle at me, or are you going to help," said Aidan without looking up.

Taking that as an invitation, Severus stalked into the room with an easy pace. Aidan may have drawn the line as to the definition of their relationship, never quite trusting the man again after he'd failed to keep the children together when they were most vulnerable, but it was moments like this that confirmed to the hardened Slytherin that the boy still had a place for him in his life.  
"I was thinking that your mother and I could take Ailith to Diagon Alley tomorrow to get her school supplies, would that be amenable to your plans?" Severus asked congenially, knowing that the long-awaited journey into London for Ailith's first wand had been a hot topic of discussion ever since the youngest child had turned 11.

Though Aidan's face visibly hardened at the mention of his mother; the wife of the man before him sharing quarters with her husband but having precious little to do with her children, he was quick to shake it off.  
"Oh, I think I could squeeze it in," he said nonchalantly, favouring Severus with a smirk. "But we had better prepare to leave an hour earlier, to allow for the time it will take to pry Harry and Ailee from Quality Quidditch Supplies."

"Why? Henry already has his broom and Ailith is not allowed one until second year," said Severus, feigning ignorance. As Slytherins, they'd never been the sort to outpour emotions or talk about anything deep and meaningful; so that they were able to indulge in such bantering exchanges spoke volumes. He peered carefully at the boy who was suddenly keen to avoid eye contact. "Could it be that _someone_ wants a new broom of their own?"

Aidan rolled his eyes, but hesitated before responding in the negative. His Comet had serviced him well since his twelfth birthday, but it had been on production lines two years when he'd received it and was now grossly incapable of keeping up with that which his younger brother flew. If Ailith were to receive a broom of her own over the coming year, it would be a purely practical requirement for Aidan to update his own broomstick in order to adequately supervise his younger siblings in the air.  
"Well if Ailith gets that Nimbus she wants for Christmas, it would be prudent for her older brother to have a comparable model in which to keep up with her, wouldn't you say?" said Aidan diplomatically. "Besides, with Maguire having graduated at the end of last season, I was considering trying out for the open Beater position."

Thinking back to the three years his step-son had played on the Slytherin team before relinquishing the position in favour of his exceptionally talented godbrother accepting a place on the team in his second year, Severus was elated to see that the boy was looking to take back that which he never should have lost. When the team had scheduled its annual try-outs the year before, and Harry impressed the team with his ability with a bat, the decision of who to drop had caused much controversy. On the question of talent alone, Aidan and Harry were equally what was right for the team; but Maguire's family had money and arrogance, and the boy was not about to swallow his pride. With the whole team backing the better players, however, Aidan could have retained his position, but quickly relinquished his slot to the stubborn seventh year when the boy threatened to 'cause trouble'. Not wanting to have his brother's achievement tarnished by slanderous rumours – the disgruntled Maguire suggesting that if both Prince boys remained on the team, it would only be because of who their step-father was – Aidan took a year out from the sport. And until now, he had given little indication that he was planning on taking his position back.

"You don't think it would encourage your sister, with the both of you being on the team?" Severus asked, though inwardly he was elated at what the addition to his team could do for Slytherin's chances at the House Cup. Both boys had always wanted to fly, and in the months after their return from London, all involved had been hard pressed to deny them. They'd taken to flight like ducks to water, and in an effort to exorcise the demons of their pasts, taken a particular liking to wielding the coveted Beater's Bat... the pair spending many a day smashing a Bludger back and forth between them in spectacular displays of aerobatic prowess. Together, they would make unbelievable Beaters for the team.

"She's 11 now," said Aidan with a shrug. "Besides, at the rate Harry keeps landing himself in the hospital wing after a game, I think you'll find that Ailee holds flying and Quidditch in two completely separate regards."

"Well we can only hope," said Severus, stirring in the next ingredient of the potion and stilling Aidan's hand when the boy went to do the same. "Why don't you let me finish that off, and go catch up with them. It's about done."

Shaking his head, Aidan refused to leave his potion unfinished, and the two lapsed into a comfortable silence. Their respective musings were interrupted, however, by a frantic calling from the fireplace in the next room.  
"Severus! Severus, are you there?" the unusually frantic voice of Albus Dumbledore sent Severus stalking out of the lab and into his office, a swift movement of his hand gesturing to Aidan that he should remain and finish the potion.

Moments later, he emerged from the office, wide-eyed and in a hurry. Aidan set down the vial he was carefully filling and looked to the disheveled man in question.  
"What is it?" he said, a slight panic bubbling in the pit of his stomach – it wasn't often that Severus looked so affected by something.

"Stay here! Do _not_ leave this room!" ordered Severus, summoning his cloak and sealing the door to his office with a complex locking charm. Moving to intercept the alarmed teen as the boy rounded the workbench and tried to follow him, he grabbed the boy's shoulders and glared at him. "I mean it, Aidan! I would take your wand and place you in a Body-Bind if it wouldn't leave you completely and utterly vulnerable; now stay here whilst I fetch the children from outside."

"Why would it matter if I am left vulnerable, in a locked room, in _Hogwarts_ of all places?" said Aidan warily, preventing his step-father's exit. "Severus, what in the hell is going on? I've not seen you like this since... since Ailith and I rolled out of the fireplace!"

Severus bowed his head, knowing that he owed the boy an explanation; the teen's latent Gryffindor tendencies not disposed to ignoring curiosity in such circumstances. Squeezing the boy's shoulders to steady himself as he looked his stepson in the eye, he cleared his throat.  
"Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban," he said in a voice barely above a whisper.

Severus' comforting gesture quickly turned into a restraining one as the boy attempted to flee in the direction of his sister, and the Potions Master fought to hold the child back.  
"Stop! It's highly improbable that he's covered so much ground in such little time! Dumbledore himself is going to meet me on the grounds to ensure their safety; but I need for you to stay indoors. Please understand."

Aidan went still, his body tensing under Severus' grip.  
"Take me with you," he whispered, his eyes downcast. He looked his stepfather in the eye and swallowed his pride. "Don't leave me here alone."

Realising then that leaving the boy with his wand, within a room sealed with his strongest wards, would do little to reassure him, Severus sighed and patted the boy's shoulder in understanding. Stepping aside and holding the door open for him, they wordlessly stepped out into the hallway outside, wands drawn.  
"It will be all right," said Severus, slightly out of breath as they walked towards the Entrance Hall at a brisk pace. "I promise, I won't let you down... not again."

Hastening his step, Aidan did not bother to look back at his stepfather as he begun to run up the stairs.  
"Don't make promises you can't keep," he snapped, half to himself, before travelling out of earshot.

Moved by the boy's cool tone, Severus fell into step behind the worried teenager, vowing to himself to do whatever it takes to keep the children safe from Sirius Black.

**END CHAPTER**

**A/N: So, Aidan and Harry have a little sister... wasn't sure about her inclusion (want to veer away from the Estella paralells) but she's integral to early plot development. So in terms of the greater wizarding world, Aidan Black went into seclusion with his mother, both shamed by Sirius' actions over Halloween 1981. I imagine Walburga Black to have kept to herself, so her acquisition of her grandchildren would only be something people speculated about, never witnessed.  
**

**Harry Potter isn't the boy-who-lived, but rather the boy-who-defeated-Voldemort-but-didn't-survive-long-after. Magical intervention in early childhood has meant that 'Henry Prince' wears glasses for reading only, and otherwise has not had his appearances altered. I know sceptics may say that people would recognise him as James Potter's son, but I'm a firm believer that people only see what they want to see. If Harry is thought to be dead, they won't be *looking* for the resemblance, let alone in a boy who shares hair colouring with an 'older brother' and eye colouring with a 'younger sister'. By all physical appearances, people readily believe that the three children are all siblings.  
**

**Severus went to Dumbledore that Halloween with the idea of having Annie Black masquarade as the widow of a far flung Prince cousin. He had never intended to take on a paternal role in their lives, but Annie's volatile psychological state had mandated it. I think the combination of having been abused as a child himself, and the love her had for Lily - who had likely helped him through that time in his life before he started Hogwarts - made him particularly open to the idea of stepping in to ensure the wellbeing of the children she had died for; even if it meant taking on a more traditional parenting role and forgetting who their fathers were. In terms of his encounters with Harry in canon, I believe Severus had maintained such a view both because of his spying duties and the fact that, when he first set eyes on Harry, he was the same age as what his childhood tormentor was when they'd first met; thus highlighting the similarities between father and son. Being involved in Harry's (and Sirius' children's) lives from their pre-Hogwarts years, he has better been able to separate who they are from their fathers. But he is in no means warm and fuzzy, and the children are still too wary of the fact that they had been sent away to bad homes once, they aren't particularly inclined to trust him or get close to him again, because he had failed to protect them. So a lot, invariably, then falls upon young Aidan's shoulders, in terms of making his younger siblings feel safe and secure.  
**


	4. Escape

**Disclamer: **The only thing that I must insist on laying claim to is Aidan. I swear I am fixated on having a boy as my firstborn... little boys make for such cute toddlers and interesting characters when they are older. LOL.

**Updated: **Monday August 24, 2009

**A/N: **Really shouldn't update in tandem, but I wanted to assure people I haven't let this story fall to the way side. Fallen Branches, however, is another pack of cards... I do have somewhere I wish to take that story, but I just *really* don't have the time to write what is in my head right now. I need a homework planner that yells at me to do stuff, then maybe I would be more productive with my time LOL. I mean, I really ought to be finishing my Intelligence Analysis report... or maybe doing the readings for the class I have tomorrow night... (hmmmm, meh... I have a sore throat and slight fever I'm fighting to stay awake as it is)

On with the chapter...

**  
Chapter IV: Escape**

Annelie Prince-Snape, formerly known as Annie Black, observed her children from the shadows. Her involvement in her family's life such that she could come and go from a room without acknowledgment, was a mutually amenable condition to their co-habitation. A self-possessed Slytherin at heart, she did not believe in promoting falsehoods or bending to the whims of a child's vulnerability. There had never been any secret made of how she resented their origins, and they had long since outgrown their innocent attempts to make her look past it.

She could never understand how Severus had been able to put their lineage behind him, and accept the children as his own. He told her once that he'd had a bad childhood, one spent wishing someone had stepped up and looked out for him. He admitted not taking on that role in her childrens' lives out of _choice_ but rather out of reverence for the woman he'd loved, and the ultimate sacrifice she'd made for those very same children.

A woman, Annie knew, who was not her.

Lily.

An unlikely pair – Gryffindor and Slytherin – Lily had been the one friend Annie had known she could always count on. The woman had even made motherhood bearable when Aidan had first been born; but then of course Lily had to go get married and have a son of her own, and things were never quite so easy after that. But still, Annie had never been able to bring herself to resent the woman for pursuing all that which she was entitled to have in her life. Loath as she were to admit it, Aidan was her son... her responsibility... her burden. That Lily had still always been able to give the boy the love and attention he demanded, but didn't otherwise get from her, made the Gryffindor even more of a ally. She'd even considered offering the boy to Lily permanently, but then was too proud to ever pointedly admit, in the eyes of the one she truly loved, that she so regretted the decision to take up with Sirius Black in the first place.

That the man she loved – and finally won over, it seemed – could go to such lengths to honour the woman she knew he would always hold feelings for; accepting the fact he could never have children of his own with the woman he'd married and instead overlook who the her children's fathers were in favour of doing what was ultimately the _right _thing, Annie couldn't help but feel the smallest twinges of guilt. As she watched the children grow, taking on more and more mannerisms of Severus', she'd begun to realise that it no longer really mattered who their fathers biologically were... but such moments of regret passed quickly; the woman too proud to ever admit that she could have ever been wrong, let alone try to atone for a lifetime of hate and neglect. So, ever the Slytherin, she took the easy path; continuing to hate the children who, in turn, felt no differently about her in return.

* * *

"I want you both to swear that you won't go looking for him!" said Severus firmly, feeling slightly unnerved by the righteous fire burning in the eyes of the two boys before him. Between them, Ailith sat, wide-eyed and confused, clinging to each brother for re-assurance. He knew the precise moment his wife had entered into the room, but knew better to try and involve her in the discussion at hand. Annie's thoughts of her ex-husband's escape would have to wait until he could be certain that the boys would not go after Black at the first chance they got.

"Oh, we won't go _looking _for him," leered Aidan, sharing a look with his brother.

Narrowing his eyes, Severus shook his head and chuckled mirthlessly – a sound that would otherwise be enough to send an entire class of NEWT students cowering under their desks.  
"Nor are you to use yourselves as bait!" added Severus, meeting each child's defiant gaze with a deadly-serious glare. He knew the boys well; not only did they possess the minds of a Slytherin, but they had the foolish courage and determination of their Gryffindor fathers... a dangerous combination Severus both admired and hated.

"Well be sure you send _him_ that memo, Severus, because we're kind of stuck in one of the first places he's going to look!" snapped Aidan testily, belying his own fear as he wrapped an arm around his sister's shoulders to comfort her. Comfort himself. Addressing the smallest child, he sought to reassure her. "Don't worry, Ailee, he doesn't even know to look for you."

Looking between the three children calculatingly, Severus gave the elder two a chance to expel the doe-like look in his little stepdaughter's eyes before making his next condition be known.  
"If any of you _do_ come across him, I do not want any _Gryffindor_ heroics!" he said, lamenting the characteristic of his least-favourite House with a sneer. When the two boys were small children, the very mention of something being 'Gryffindor' had been enough to set the pair straight; Harry having been too young to impress himself upon that which his own father had held dear and Aidan too resentful of his father's broken promises to want to follow in the man's stead. Seeing the point hit its target, he drove it home. "If you see him, do what any self-respecting Slytherin would do, and let someone else handle it. I want your solemn promise, boys. Swear it on your sister."

Torn between avenging all that his father had stolen from them and honoring his stepfather's request, Aidan's eyes hardened at the tactics the man was employing to ensure his compliance. The keeping of promises had always figured very highly in Aidan's moral code; there had never been an excuse good enough for breaking one's word, and if there was ever any doubt about his ability to keep a vow, he would simply not swear an oath to that effect. But no matter how insistent Severus was that they should take the threat of Sirius Black seriously by staying away, Aidan knew that it was one promise he could never make; least of all on his sister's life. Looking his stepfather in the eye, he shook his head once.  
"No. I will not do that, Severus," he said solemnly, defiantly not breaking eye contact. "You know why I cannot."

Growling slightly at his stepson's tenacity – no child but him had ever been able to match his death glare and not flinch – Severus narrowed his eyes, preparing to pull out his trump card.  
"Don't make me ask your sister..." he said leadingly, knowing that Ailith was Aidan's one weakness, the boy never able to deny her anything she asked of him, including promises.

Placing a firm hand on his sister's arm, Aidan gave his sister a warning look; effectively pulling out his own stops as it was no real secret to whom Ailith was ultimately loyal to.  
"Ailith..." he said warningly, stopping himself from actually demanding that she pick sides. Normally, the threat of being placed in such a position was enough; she would request to be kept out of the proceedings and they would respectfully back off.

Ailith took a stand.  
"I never met the man, so keep me out of it," she said resolutely. She looked to brother and stepfather in turn. "I really don't care if you go after him or not, but just promise me this... _come home when you're done_. I don't want to lose any of you, okay?"

"I think I can agree to that," said Aidan with a nod. He gave his younger brother a sidelong glance. "Harry?"

Severus' hand shot out and grabbed Aidan's arm before the boy could stand, the tense silence that hung over them incorrectly signifying the end of the conversation.  
"I will not impede your judgment any further, Aidan," he said softly, but firmly; his eyes ablaze with steely resolve. "You're a remarkably capable young wizard. I don't expect your promise on this, but I do expect you to consider the situation very carefully before getting your brother involved."

"Harry deserves to be by my side," Aidan ground out through gritted teeth, immediately on the defensive.

"I never said he didn't," said Severus calmly. "I just want you to consider your own ability to protect him against an untested foe."

"I can protect myself!" said Harry in protest.

"I don't doubt that you think you can," said Severus indulgently. "But not even I can firmly say that I would triumph against such an unknown enemy. You must remember that no man has _ever_ escaped Azkaban – that Black could do so even after enduring the effects of the Dementors for over a decade is testament to his unpredictability. Just _think_ before you do anything."

Having heard enough, Annie Black slipped from the room, the door to hers and Severus' private suite closing behind her soundlessly. No matter how much she told herself that she despised the children in her care, a part of her couldn't help but tense at the thought of them confronting Sirius. Perhaps it was the fear that, upon meeting him, they would realise as she knew that there wasn't a homicidal bone in Black's body; find out from him that she not only knew all along that he had never betrayed the Potters, but had in fact been present in the alleyway to witness Peter blow up the street. The rat Animagus had deliberately chosen to lead Sirius to the Muggle shopping strip she had been known to frequent, correctly anticipating that she would seize the event as an opportunity to expell her husband from her life by corroborating the testimony of the surrounding Muggles.

When Sirius had seen her, she had been standing at the forefront of the crowd, watching him being led away by a bevy of Aurors. When she did not so much as flinch in his direction – come running to his defence like a dutiful wife might – a flicker of heartbreak had passed over the man's face only momentarily; her words to him days earlier having evidently softened the blow of her ultimate betrayal. The stunned look on his face had been quickly replaced by his legendary anger, a temper he had never before directed towards the woman he'd so blindly loved, until that moment. If not for the fact that he was restrained by Aurors on all sides, Annie would have run a mile; her husband had been so mad, that he could only _laugh_, and that was never a good sign in either of the men she had been married to, particularly not when it came out as maniacal as Sirius' had done that day.

Leaning against the door and taking a few calming breaths, Annie tried to cast the fear from her mind. If Sirius could be the first person in recorded history to ever escape Azkaban, there was no telling what else he may be capable of doing. The thought, then, of the wanted fugitive gaining enough trust amongst his former allies and collecting the evidence needed to prove his innocence was entirely too possible for her liking. But whilst her fears of discovery were valid, there was no denying the flame in her son's eyes. The look had been so alike the expression his father had worn when confronting Pettigrew in that alley that she was now more than hopeful that any confrontation between father and son would see the boy curse first and ask questions later. With that in mind, she knew that there was only one thing she could do, and so, after grabbing quill and parchment and scribbling a quick note to her estranged ex, she charmed the note into a Portkey and shamelessly broke the promise she'd made to her husband when he'd learnt how the children had been stolen from under his nose.  
"Kreacher," she hissed, acutely aware of the fact that she'd cast no Silencing Charm around the perimeter of the room, but safe in the knowledge that Severus would have his hands full for a while yet, answering the children's questions. Wherever Sirius Black was at that moment, his House Elf was bound to find him.

* * *

**A/N: Was soooo tempted to end it there... but that would be cruel.**

"Are you sure we should be doing this, Aidy? Severus said he was going to write Ollivander about having him bring a selection of wands over for me to choose..." Ailith looked around the bustling Diagon Alley warily, her stepfather's apologies echoing in her mind. After it had become clear that nothing much could stop her brothers from 'letting fate take its course', conversation had quickly moved to the long awaited trip to London, to get their school things. Ailith had been most understanding of Severus' insistence that it was not yet safely guarded, and had been surprised when her brothers had roused her before dawn, a Portkey in hand.

"From Severus' perspective, probably not," Aidan admitted airily, but his resolve was firm. "But I'll not hide and cower like some blasted Hufflepuff. Sure, no one's escaped before, but it's the month before school starts; this place is too packed for anyone to try anything. We'll be fine..."

Green eyes narrowing in realisation, 'Henry Prince' beat his sister to the punch.  
"Wait a minute," he hissed, pulling Ailith a little closer so that they stood huddled in a protective little circle in the alcove outside Gringotts, where their Portkey had delivered them. "If Severus is still as against this as he was last night, then where the hell did you get the Portkey?"

Aidan looked between his siblings incredulously.  
"I'm disappointed. I would have thought that after last night's display, you'd have realised straight off the Bludger that I didn't get the Portkey from Severus," he drawled leadingly.

"But if you didn't get it from Severus, then who?" asked Ailith innocently.

"No way! Tell me you didn't accept a Portkey from _her_!" spluttered Harry, eyes ablaze; looking at Aidan as though he had grown another head.

"Who, you mean my not-so-delightful mother?" said Aidan flippantly, feigning innocence. "Why shouldn't I accept a kind gesture from the woman on the rare occasion that it appears?"

Harry's eyes flew wide in realisation.  
"She's plotting something, and you know it," he said, a calculating expression on his face.

"Just rolling with the punches," said Aidan with a shrug. "If she's blind enough to actually think I would buy into her little scheme without taking the necessary precautions, then she's setting herself up for disappointment."

When, then, Ailith sidled closer towards her eldest brother fearfully and went rigid, Aidan ceased with his steely bravado and looked to his sister in concern.  
"Ailith..." he began apologetically, realising that, perhaps that it hadn't been fair to drag his defenseless sister along for the ride.

"Is that... is that him?" Ailith cut him off distractedly, her voice barely above a whisper as she looked up at him fearfully and pointed towards a nearby wall. There, in tones of brown and yellow, was the moving image of their father, Sirius Black.

Working quickly to hide his own shock, Aidan nodded curtly and stepped in front of his sister, blocking her view. Approaching the wanted poster with a critical tilt to his head, he regarded the photo with a frown.  
"He looks different than how I remembered him," he lied quietly, quashing down the unfamiliar ache that the forbidden memories brought. One such recollection proving his inspiration, he withdrew his wand and muttered a spell, changing the features of the image – and indeed that of all the wanted posters in the alley. Smirking now at his sister, who could not help but giggle at his work, Aidan nodded in satisfaction. "Now that's more like how I remember him."

Taking in the flashing, multi-coloured hair and what could only be make up on the depicted wizard's face, Harry whipped around to face his brother in question, his brows raised in disbelief. Seeing the younger boy's incredulous look, Aidan smiled secretively.  
"Your father did that to him once, after he'd caught my father teaching me to call him 'Pongs' instead of 'Prongs'," he explained wistfully, careful to keep his voice low. He nodded towards the altered poster, and all the others like it. "They'll remain like that until we leave... in honour of James."

At Aidan's mention of his father, both Harry and Ailith averted their eyes. When Ailith had been little, and had first learned of her family's unusual dynamics, she had asked many questions about the absent wizard who had unwittingly sired her. Memories of the doting father who had promised to return, but didn't, had still been fresh in young Aidan's mind, and he had reacted in a defensive manner. Ever since, the subject of Sirius Black was not something either child was willing to initiate whilst in conversation with the older boy, and on the rare occasion Aidan made a passing reference, they could not help but be on their guard.

Turning her attention towards something else, Ailith approached the defaced poster and inspected her brother's handiwork closely, her pale green eyes lighting up when finding what they were looking for.  
"You left your mark!" she said in awe, whirling to face her brother as she stabbed at the small marking on the corner of the page. "They'll find out it was you!"

Aidan, however, was unperturbed, and waved off his sister's concern.  
"Every great artist signs his work," he quipped, nudging aside his sister's pointing finger and running his own across the small etching of a snake. "Anyone in Slytherin – and a great deal of others who just happen to like reptiles – could leave a mark like that..."

"But it's _you_," emphasised Ailith, her brow wrinkling in confusion. "If anyone ever finds out you're a... _you-know-what_... then they'll recognise Adder!"

Aidan shrugged, unafraid of any Ministry repercussions.  
"I don't care," he said simply. Muttering under his breath so that only those who knew Sirius Black was an Animagus would understand, he continued; "it's not like the Ministry know how to pick 'em.."

Harry chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully.  
"Y'know, maybe we should consider telling the Ministry about that," he whispered, referring to the unregistered form that very few people knew Sirius Black to have.

Aidan was quick to rebuke the idea.  
"Why should we do their work for them by giving them information they easily could have learned for themselves when they arrested him, with the application of a simple spell?" he said disapprovingly. "If they had, he might never have escaped in the first place."

"And of course, you would never consider reminding the Ministry that such a spell exists, now would you?" said Harry with a knowing smirk.

"And risk it ever being used on me? Of course not, I'm a Slytherin, not some self-sacrificing Gryffindor," drawled Aidan. 'Adder' was the name of Aidan's own unregistered Animagus form – a Black Adder snake that he had studied hard to become ever since it was discovered that his godbrother was a Parselmouth. As anticipated, Aidan had been able to understand, and respond, in Parseltongue whilst in his snake form; and though he could not speak the language otherwise, he had begun to recognise the odd word or two when his brother tested him in human form. The achievement of Aidan completing his Animagus transformation was a secret shared between the three children, their efforts to keep things hidden from even Severus something they could only marvel about.

Watching as her brothers exchanged a look, Ailith stepped between the two scheming boys and gave each a shove in turn.  
"Don't even think about it!" she hissed, stamping her foot. "Aidy, I hate it when you two get to have your _secret little chats_! I don't care how you choose to talk to each other when I am not around, but it's not fair to leave me out when I am!"

Pulling his sister into a rough, one-armed hug, Aidan bent down and kissed the top of her head.  
"Aw, c'mon Ailee! You're not going to begrudge us a little secret-brothers-business, are you?" he smiled into her hair as he felt the girl beside him tense defensively. Squeezing her comfortingly, his smile began to falter as he became more serious. "You know we would never keep anything important from you, don't you?"

Ailith sighed audibly and relaxed into her brother's side.  
"S'pose not," she mumbled, burying her head into the taller boy's chest. Tilting her head up, she looked up into Aidan's eyes. "But it's still not fair! When do I get to do all the big kid stuff? And don't say 'when I am a big kid' because you know how long _that's_ going to take!"

Ruffling his sister's hair playfully, Aidan fought to hide his grin as the girl began to scowl at him for teasing her. Reminding her that mastering an Animagus transformation was not all that it was cracked up to be – after observing Aidan in his earliest attempts, Harry had vowed never to try it – he promised not to exclude her from any conversations unless it absolutely could not be avoided. Before he could clarify what that meant, Harry interrupted the oppressive air that had settled around them and urged them towards the bank.  
"Come on," he urged, his eyes wide and scouring the small sliver of sky that was visible between the rows of buildings the alley was nestled between. Rubbing at his arms in warning, he gestured upwards. "I think the Dementors are on the move."

Sure enough, the Minister of Magic had announced in that morning's _Daily Prophet_ that Dementors would randomly descend upon 'magical places of interest' in search of their missing prisoner. When accepting his mother's Portkey, Aidan had vehemently hoped that they would not come across any of the soul-sucking beasts, but knew that if they did, he would be adequately equipped to shield his family. Following his brother's eyes skyward, the tall, imposing Slytherin squeezed his sister's shoulder with one hand, and drew his wand with the other. Nudging the small, unresponsive girl towards the bank's entrance, he gestured for Harry to follow.  
"Meet me inside. I'll stay until they've left – make sure they're gone," he vowed, taking a defensive stance.

When Aidan was certain the pair had fled, he shook his head slowly and pocketed his wand; he knew from Severus' teachings that the Dementors were too far away to have any lingering effect, and that the Ministry would not give them free reign to harass the general public – at least not this early on in their prisoner's escape. No, what Aidan wanted, was a moment's privacy... a moment, so that he might retrieve the closest wanted poster from its mount and carefully pocket it.

Alone in the alleyway, Aidan closed his eyes and allowed himself a moment of unguarded bliss. Spreading one palm across the cool, uneven stone of the wall where his father's picture had so recently been, the still-grieving boy rested his weight against the outstretched hand and bowed his head. Sighing quietly, he shook his head and straightened, quick to recover his resolve. Turning briskly and striding in the direction of the bank, the extremely complex teen remained oblivious to the emaciated dog that had watched his every move from the shadows.

'_Thank you, Annie,_' the canine Animagus silently thanked his former wife, the Portkey note and photo the woman had inexplicably sent via Kreacher safely tucked away on his person. Sticking to the shadows, the weary escaped convict followed his son into the bank, knowing that he was taking a terrible risk, but banking on the Goblins' neutrality to assure him safe passage to his vault.

* * *

**A/N: Or maybe here?? Hmmm no, I am delirious tonight... here is more...**

"_Adrian_, what are we doing here? This isn't our vault!" said Ailith in surprise, her face flushed from the excitement of the carriage ride that all three children so routinely enjoyed. She was careful to use her brother's assumed name when in the presence of the goblin who had escorted them down.

"I beg to differ" said Aidan, bowing dramatically in front of the vault that had not seen patronage from a direct heir in over a decade; a small smile playing at his lips as he darted forward and waved his hand behind his sister's ear, shaking the vault key his mother had given him from his sleeve as he did so. Letting his sister snatch the key from in front of her face, and inspect it carefully, he offered his explanation. "I do assure you that it is _our_ vault. Mother gave me the key so that I might acquire the funds to purchase a new broomstick or two."

Harry snatched the key away from Ailith, his eyes ablaze with realisation. Stepping right into his brother's personal space, he scowled up at the taller boy, his fist closing around the small key angrily and shaking in the air wildly.  
"Oh, so now she is _bribing_ you with your father's _blood money_?" he roared, his face heating up.

Instantly matching his brother's ire, Aidan snatched the key back from the shorter boy and sneered.  
"She cannot bribe me with what has been mine since birth!" he snapped testily, whipping his hand out and sightlessly handing the contentious key to their accompanying goblin to open the door. There was little doubt that the Gringotts Goblin knew who he, at least, really was - they would not have accepted his key if not. Aidan stepped closer to Harry and shook his head once. "I don't appreciate the term 'blood money', either, _Henry_. Don't let me catch you using it again."

Harry backed away, but was far from satisfied. Had Aidan not called him by his assumed name, he would have pushed the issue, but knew that when his brother looked at him the way he did, and used that chilling tone, it was time to back down. Crossing his arms across his chest to physically show his protest, he hung back as Aidan stepped into the vault, feeling openly smug when Ailith took a place by his side; the girl equally reluctant to encroach upon Black family territory. His coin purse soon stuffed with Galleons, Aidan was unperturbed by his siblings' hesitation. Wordlessly sidestepping them and climbing into the cart that would take them back up to the surface, he reached out a hand expectantly.  
"C'mon Ailee, let's go get you a wand," he said conversationally, jiggling his money bag suggestively. "I don't think we'll have need to draw from the family vault."

Grateful for the assistance both her brothers offered her as she climbed over the guard rail and into the cart, Ailith giggled as Aidan pulled her onto his lap, draping his arms around her protectively to secure her for the ride ahead. Used to the older boy's drastic mood changes, she leaned back against his chest contentedly and twisted her head up to look at her brother.  
"But wasn't that just..." she said, confused, as she gestured towards the Black family vault. Catching the sulking look on Harry's face as he took his seat beside them, she poked her tongue out at the sullen boy and nudged him with her foot, smiling victoriously when he indulged her with a reassuring look.

Aidan's hold on his sister tightened and he rested his head against her shoulder.  
"We're not that family anymore and you know it, Ailee'," he said, flicking his head towards the rapidly disappearing vault. "But that doesn't mean we can't take advantage of what it's left us from time to time."

"_Blood money_," Harry muttered under his breath, his eyes downcast as he glared into the floor angrily, scuffing his shoe against the iron side of the cart as it hurtled along, his words blessedly drowned out by the aptly-timed roar of a dragon in the distance.

Reaching the end of the line, Aidan held back a little as they approached the deserted waiting area that was positioned out of sight from the imposing rows of tellers in the main part of the bank – many people evidently too spooked by the Dementor's sweep to remain in Diagon Alley.  
"Snagtooth," he called to the goblin, pulling out the key the banker had returned to him after sealing the Black vault behind them. Holding it out in front of the goblin, he glanced around them once to ensure no one was listening and scooted down slightly to address the Gringotts goblin in a stage whisper. He had not been unaffected by Harry's earlier protests. "I see no point in belittling your intelligence any further. Should my _father_ come by here – and I have no doubt you know precisely who I am talking about – see to it that he gets this. I trust the staff of Gringotts still pride themselves on acting independently of the Ministry?"

"I understand, Master _Black_," said Snagtooth with a knowing tone, accepting the proffered key and depositing it into one of his many pockets.

As soon as his brother was clear of the Gringotts goblin, Harry pounced.  
"What the _hell_ do you think you are doing?" he snapped, not caring who might walk in at any moment, and overhear their conversation.

Slightly more wary of the intrusion, Aidan pinned Harry's arm in a death grip and dragged him into the nearest corner, furthest from the archway that led to the main banking floor.  
"Don't you _dare_," he hissed in a deathly tone. Sensing his sister come up behind him, he sightlessly thrust his free arm back, cutting her off. "Ailith, stay out of this!"  
When he was certain that his sister would not interfere, he grabbed Harry by the lapels of his robes and shoved him against the wall gently, but firmly.  
"I know that look, Harry. Don't even think it," he said, his barely controlled anger at his brother's reaction betraying his thinly veiled hurt. "You didn't stand there and watch James stare death in the face. Don't you _dare_ think that I would not have died at his side had I been old enough to wield a wand!"

"But you're going to _help_ him!" snapped Harry, shoving at Aidan with his own, uncontrollable anger; however Aidan was too strong for him. "You're leaving _his_ key!"

"I took what I need and have no more use for my, what did you call it, '_father's blood money_'," sneered Aidan spitefully. "He's welcome to it!"

"He deserves to rot in Azkaban for what he did!" snarled Harry, his voice hoarse from fighting the urge not to scream in his anger. "And there you are handing him the key to a well-financed life on the run! He could bribe Ministry officials with that, for all you know!"

"So? Let him," spat Aidan, hatred burning in his eyes. "Azkaban obviously had no effect on him, and both death and the Kiss are too merciful. Let him live with what he did. Let him try and assimilate himself back into society, hiding in its fringes, seeing that which he could have had within arm's reach but world's away. He can have all the money he wants, but it will never compensate for all that was once normal. Never give him back the friends he took for granted, or the family he betrayed..."

"-How can you be so sure he ever cared for any of that, and won't just take the money and run off to some place where no one knows him?" hissed Harry, beginning to see where his godbrother was coming from, but skeptical all the same. He leered at Aidan, betrayal flickering across his features. "Or do you actually want to help him? Blood is thicker than water, and all that Slytherin rot? You would choose to remain loyal even after all these years..."

SLAP!

Harry's face snapped back with the force of the blow, spittle and a little blood spraying from his mouth and showering the wall beside him. Ailith pitched forward, her cry of alarm earning her Aidan's ire.  
"_Back off_, Ailith!" he growled, exasperated. Re-affirming his grip on Harry's robes, he shook the boy so hard that his head lolled back against the wall, hitting it with a dull thud.  
Glaring the younger boy in the eye, he shook his head to rid himself of the veil of tears that threatened to fall.  
"I would never. Ever. Choose him over James. Not _ever_. I am insulted you would even think that!" he expelled a weary breath and stepped closer, resting his forehead against Harry's. "My loyalty is to you, and Ailith, and will be until my dying breath. I will keep my promise to your parents – you _know_ that – but I will not have a hand in my father's capture. He may have betrayed us all, but if I respond in kind I will be no better than he! By leaving _his key_ with the goblins, I am only returning what belongs to him, and honoring the code by which the goblins run this establishment. If I ever hear you suggesting that I would collude with the man and betray either you or _my sister_, you will bear more than my hand print across your cheek; do you understand?"

Realising that he had not just touched upon a nerve, but aggravated it beyond a point either sibling had ever seen in the elder boy, Harry nodded numbly and cleared his throat nervously. He realised all too late that whilst there was no love lost between his brother and the boy's estranged father, a part of Aidan had never truly gotten over the man abandoning them the way he did. The memories were foggy, at best, but Harry could still remember a time when his 'big brother' cried himself to sleep at night, pining for the father and godparents he himself had long since forgotten.

For a long time, Aidan had been unable to accept his father's role in the attack on Godric's Hollow, maintaining quite vehemently that it had somehow been Peter Pettigrew who'd turned the tables on them all. If only to stop the boy's constant tirades – which, in the early stages of Annie's pregnancy, had vexed the woman severely – Severus had 'pulled the boy out of hiding'; accompanying his future stepson to make an official statement at the Ministry. His memories of Peter Pettigrew were extensively examined, but in the absence of any visible Dark Mark, it had been readily accepted that little Aidan's judgment had been completely unfounded. No boy would ever want to leap to such conclusions about their own father, and so the confused little boy had been forgiven for misconstruing Peter's involvement in events and sent back to his mother, at their undisclosed address.

The inquest had found that, as a close friend of the family's, Peter would have undoubtedly been included amongst the select number of people granted access to the secret Black had been trusted to keep, and had arrived too late to save his friends. Voldemort's wand, which Aidan had seen the ill-fated man pocketing at the scene, was presumed destroyed along with the rest of the man's body; Pettigrew suspected to have taken it to draw the approaching Black's attention away from the surviving children. In all, the only thing Aidan's recollection had done, was affirm Pettigrew's status as a posthumous hero, and as years past, the devastated boy no longer had a reason to suspect otherwise.

Nodding in realisation, Harry muttered a heartfelt apology and embraced his older brother. He could not blame Aidan for wanting to distinguish himself from his blood kin, by displaying a compassion the man had failed to show his friends and family.  
"I'm sorry," he said again, humbly. "I should never have doubted you... I wasn't even doubting your loyalty to me, even... I just..."

Aidan shook his head slightly and cut Harry off with a hand.  
"No, I am the one who is sorry," he said hoarsely, reaching out and placing a gentle hand against the red mark he'd left on the side of Harry's face. "I should never have hit you. We both lost our temper, and that is not on. You were right to be angry. I should have consulted with you before making the decision to leave the key behind. I stand by what I said, but if anyone deserves a say in Black's fate, it is you. If you do not want him to have access to his ancestral vault, then just say the word."

Faced with the unexpected decision, Harry backed away from his brother and frowned.  
"You know what, I don't care; as long as he stays the hell away from us," he said. Sending Ailith a sympathetic look – the girl having seized her chance to wrap herself up in Aidan's empty arms – he nodded resolutely. "I think we should let Ailee' decide. She's possibly the only impartial one amongst us."

Rubbing lazy circles around his sister's back, Aidan considered Harry's suggestion and looked down at the girl in his arms questioningly.  
"Well?" he prompted, giving her an encouraging squeeze. "Once again, your word is law."

"Leave it," she said after a moment's pause. She wormed her way out of her brother's arms and shook her head. "If a simple key is going to make you two go at it like that, then I never want to see it again. It's poison. Let him have it. If you've taken what you want, Aidy, then we have no more need of it – I certainly don't want to touch a brass Knut. And if we're lucky, it'll piss off _Mother_."

The three children exchanged a look. Once Annie had realised they had thrown away one of the few trump cards she held over them, she would not be happy. Married to another, she was no longer considered part of the Black family, and by giving the key entrusted to her as mother of the family's heir, to Aidan, she had effectively granted him control to then leave it with the goblins for his father to collect. She could attempt to tell Severus, get the man on side in sharing her displeasure, but considering her hand in facilitating their unscheduled trip to London, she'd be more at risk of facing her husband's wrath about that first. For Severus Snape was a man of his word, and he took the safety of the children in his charge very seriously.

Leaving the bank a good deal richer, and happier, than they had been throughout the visit, the trio were left again unaware of the four-legged figure loitering in the shadows of Gringott's public waiting room. One goblin, however, was not so blind.  
"Your key, Mr Black," Snagtooth said curtly, not a tone of emotion to be heard as he reappeared in the room. The key in question was in his hand, but the Goblin made no move to acknowledge the direction of the convict's location.

"I don't want it," a voice, hoarse from years of disuse, whispered brokenly as its owner took the chance to transform. The first tear of many, tracked a salty path down his grimy face.

'_Damn you, Annie,_' he screamed inwardly, his heart shattered from his son's outburst. The revelation of a daughter in his wife's missive had filled him with insurmountable joy and hope, but having heard their cutting words directed at him, Annie's true motives had become all that more apparent. Memories of his wife having witnessed Pettigrew's deception and doing nothing swept over him, rekindling the rage that saw him into his cursed cell. It had been _Annie_, not him, who had betrayed their children, and having carefully read into their brief references to the woman, he couldn't bear to think of what sort of childhood the woman he'd so foolishly loved had given to the children she'd never wanted. Remembering, then, the look on his son's face as he'd secretly pocketed the wanted poster outside the bank, Sirius was hopefull that he could bring his boy around, and that once he had done that, the others would surely follow.

But how to get the boy alone? Hours later, he was still pondering that very question when an all-too-familiar voice roused him from his thoughts; prompting him to shrink back for fear of being recognised – either by his form, or his scent.  
"Aidan? Aidan Black?" the man's voice betrayed surprise, but there was little question in his tone.

Seemingly finding something of interest in the window display, Aidan froze, but showed no immediate signs of acknowledging the man's call. Sirius had been observing the children from afar the entire afternoon, skulking around in the shadows as he tried to plot his next step. Harry and Ailith were still in Flourish and Blotts; Aidan having volunteered to go on ahead and pick up their order from Madam Malkins, now that it was ready. It had been outside the Magical Menagerie that Remus Lupin had brushed passed the boy, his arms ladened with what looked like a Grindylow tank. When the teenager made no move to flee – from his vantage point, Sirius could see that his son was carefully observing the calling man's reflection, trying to place him – Remus approached, coming to a standstill inches behind the boy.

"Aidan," he stated, disbelief colouring his tone even though there remained no question as to the boy's identity. If losing his friends to murder and betrayal was not enough, awakening from that horrible full moon to discover that little Harry had died from his injuries and Annie had disappeared with Aidan, had been the wand that broke the Hippogriff's back for Remus Lupin. Whether his imprisoned friend had truly been Dark, and his family were now being hidden by the Dark Lord's followers, had been the least of his concerns. It worried Remus not that the good-natured child he remembered was likely being raised in darkness, but rather that Annie was now the only person responsible for the son she despised.

Remus' lupine senses had been quick to detect the woman's dissent with her infant cub, and he had been the first to raise the issue of Annie's capacity to be a parent. The day after Harry's birthday party – the only such celebration the delightful little boy had ever gotten to enjoy – he'd pushed Sirius too hard, confronting his friend with truths the man was either not yet ready to face, or did not care to know. Sirius' reaction had been thunderous, the hot-tempered Black openly suspecting Remus of being a spy and encouraging the Potters to associate with him less and less in the wake of it. At the time, Remus had convinced himself that the incident was simply another of Sirius' legendary cock-ups and that, after giving his friends a few months to talk themselves around such irrationality, everything would come out in the wash. In hindsight, the man's verbal explosion looked to be nothing more than an opportunistic way to alienate the Potters from one of those loyal to them.

"Aidan!" he said again, a little louder. He took a chance and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, just on the off-chance the child had assumed another identity and no longer remembered answering to the name.

Tensing slightly, Aidan turned and blinked up at the slightly taller man in feigned astonishment.  
"I'm sorry, sir, but I think you have me mistaken for someone else," he said politely.

Pausing a moment to scrutinise the boy's features, now that he was so close, Remus frowned slightly when his eyes landed on the ugly scar that dominated one side of the child's cheek – had Annie done that to him? Realising that he was not going to get any answers by simply staring at the lad, he cleared his throat.  
"I think not, _Pup,_" he said pointedly, narrowing his eyes at the long-lost son of Sirius Black in challenge as he shook his head and smiled knowingly, not missing the flicker of recognition he saw in the boy's eyes. He tapped his nose. "I suppose you're going to try and tell me you don't know who I am, next..."

"No. You're Remus Lupin," said Aidan indifferently. "I recognise you from the picture from your job application. You're to be the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts."

Remus blinked in surprise, unable to deduce anything from the boy's demeanor, other than that which was readily identifiable at face value.  
"Hogwarts applications are very confidential," he said suspiciously, a stab of fear coursing through him as he paid mind to how the missing teenager had likely been raised, and what information such as what was disclosed on his job application could do. "Furthermore, I only applied for the position two weeks ago, you can't have been at the school to simply set eyes upon it by accident-"

"I beg to differ, Lupin," a cold voice cut in from behind, the imposing form of Severus Snape shadowing over them ominously. Steely black eyes zeroed in on his wayward stepson. "Adrian. You ought to know better than to be traipsing Diagon Alley _alone_ in today's climate."

Whilst the man's words could easily be taken as an adult's concern for a young child who was, perhaps, taking on too much whilst still recovering from an illness, Aidan knew better. Hearing the veiled question, he nodded towards the bookstore, where he could see Harry and Ailith standing outside, looking around for him. Catching Harry's eye from across the busy alley, he shook his head ever so slightly in silent communication – let Lupin discover Harry's survival in less public settings. Ignoring the inquisitive look of the sandy-haired man, Aidan turned his attention to the man who had raised him.  
"I am sorry, sir, but did you really suspect any less?" he said, raising his brows at his stepfather. "I assure you that I have everything under control."

"Oh, and it certainly looks like it!" snapped Severus, hours of frantically scouring the school for the wayward trio taking their toll. He reached in front of the meddling werewolf and grabbed his stepson's arm; for though the logical part of his mind acknowledged that the quietly spoken Remus Lupin was not a danger to anyone in his human form, the instinctual side could not forget what he had faced all those years ago, and want to keep a child in his care away. He pulled the teen aside until he physically stood between Aidan and Lupin. "I don't know what you were thinking, leaving the school like that..."

"Wait, you live at the school? At Hogwarts?" interrupted Lupin, but his epiphany went ignored.

"What would you have done if it had been _someone other than Lupin_ who had cornered you? How did you even get out of Hogsmeade?" Severus looked around hopelessly and tried to calm down. Spotting the long thin package in Aidan's hand, and recognising its exposed handle as one the children had coveted in catalogs all summer, he narrowed his eyes as he detected his wife's handiwork. "Is that what I think it is? Hand over the vault key – I cannot believe you of all people would play into your mother's hands like that, and to endanger the others... for what? A broom? Or is it something more? Do you _want _him to find you? Where is the key?"

"Stop!" said Harry breathlessly, having seen the rage on his guardian's face from across the walkway and hastened to share his brother's burden, Ailith trailing behind him. "Leave him alone! Aidy and I have already discussed this – do you think I would still be here if his motives were questionable? Leave it be! Just look at him!"

True enough, Aidan was falling to pieces; the events of the past few days catching up on him. Emotionally torn between memories he had never quite been able to let go of, and a reality he had been convinced to believe, he no longer knew what to think. His head told him to do what he could to ensure his sister's safety and see his father recaptured; but his heart could not look past the foggy image of the always smiling man who'd always made him feel safe. Safe at a time when time alone with his mother had meant no change of clothes and going hungry. Having his motives questioned, first by Harry, and then by the man he had unwittingly aspired to and admired for a majority of his life, he could stand no more. Blinking away the tears that had waited years to fall, Aidan looked lost.  
"I don't have the key," he admitted in a small voice, shrinking back shamefully. Ever since he had returned from Grimmauld Place, the boy had not questioned himself so visibly, but it did not mean that he did not have his doubts. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry! I knew what she was trying to do, but I thought that if I stayed one step ahead of her, then her plan wouldn't work, and Harry 'n I would get new brooms for her efforts."  
He looked around in exasperation, the image of Sirius Black haunting him from every lamp post and brick wall. Rubbing at his arms for self-comfort, he slumped his shoulders in defeat.

"I didn't... I didn't expect..." his voice trailed off.

Without hesitation, Severus closed the distance between them and, in a rare display, embraced the vulnerable boy. Years and years of holding everything in had finally reached their breaking point, and whilst he wished it could occur in a more private environment, Severus was glad to be there. His first priority, then, being to extract his distraught stepson from the situation, he tightened his hold on Aidan and looked over at Harry.  
"Go to Fortescue's and buy your sister an ice-cream. Do _not_ move from there until I return," he said firmly, satisfied at the boy's curt nod. Waiting until the bespectacled teen had bustled a bewildered looking Ailith away, he turned to his future colleague. "If I hear you have been harassing my children, Lupin, you will not last your first week. I suggest you take your grievances to Dumbledore."

"Understood," said Lupin reluctantly, hefting the heavy weight under his arm. "I have to get my Grindylow out of the sun anyway... I will see you at the school."

At that, the newly appointed Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher strode off in the direction opposite that in which the children had left. Standing, still with Aidan in his arms, Severus shifted his hold and bent his head over the boy's ear.  
"Do not let go. I will Apparate us both to Hogsmeade," he said softly. Aidan nodded against his shoulder and tightened his hold in response. Closing his eyes, Severus prepared to Disapparate.

'_Destination, Deliberation, Determination..._' he chanted to himself softly, picturing the clearing besides the Hogwarts gates.

The tell-tale shift of molecules and a faint 'Pop' and they were on their way.

END CHAPTER

A/N: Coming up in the next chapter... Severus leaves Harry and Ailith alone in the busy alley. Aidan confronts his father for the first time in a decade, and we get to see a bit more of Annie in all her mothering 'glory'. Hopefully won't be quite so long between innings... but I really ought to catch up on my studies first... yikes!


	5. Taken Away

**Updated: Monday 21 September 2009**

**Disclaimer: **If it were mine, why would I be subjecting myself to a dissertation that is about as fun as watching paint dry?

**A/N: **Because I am on Spring Break from uni and start term break at work (gotta love having a job in the education system) and thus get a full uninterrupted week to get up to speed on my study... which means a few hours to play here :) I got FULL marks in my first paper too... the first paper I've written in over four years :) Kinda set the bar pretty high for the rest of the semester, though... wish me luck!!

**Last time...** we got an insight into Aidan's mother. Severus warned the boys about going looking for Sirius Black. The kids sneaked off to Diagon Alley, where Aidan encountered Remus Lupin and raided the Black vault; all the while Sirius watched from the shadows. We saw the boys fight, and got an insight into how much Aidan valued promises and loyalty, and how much Harry trusted and respected his 'brother'. After leaving the family vault key for his father collect, a public scolding from Severus is the last straw for Aidan, and sensing the boy needs a moment away from the others to regroup, Severus Side-Apparates his stepson to Hogsmeade whilst Harry takes Ailith for ice cream...

**Chapter V: ****Taken Away**

"You want sprinkles?" asked Harry, willing to jump through hoops to get Ailith's mind off of Aidan's moment of weakness. The boy they'd both come to rely upon to be impenetrable was entitled to be as infallible as any other human, but it was just not something they were accustomed to seeing.

"And Pop Rocks," said Ailith with a small smile. Like the venerable Hogwarts headmaster who had imprinted himself into their lives as something of a grandfatherly figure, Ailith had developed a keen taste for Muggle confectionery, the exploding candy one of few Muggle sweets to feature on Fortescue's extensive menu.

"And Pop Rocks," drawled Harry playfully, bowing dramatically as he propped his prized new broom against the rail and made his leave. They had chosen to sit on the edge of the terrace, closest to the hustle and bustle of the alley, whose traffic had again picked up in the hours since the Dementor's last pass. The path to the serving bay was obstructed by a labyrinth of tables and people, mostly small children, and the line was long. But as he stepped into the magically cooled store and the waiting Ailith disappeared from his line of sight, Harry didn't see any reason to worry, or rush.

Waiting in the sunshine, watching those around her quickly shovel into their sundaes before they could melt whilst she remained empty handed, Ailith looked down the distracting street scape restlessly. She was hardly known for her patience at the best of times, and with her mind plagued by the news of her father's escape and brother's subsequent meltdown, she was feeling particularly idle. Suddenly, a blur of movement caught her eye, and she found herself face to face with a dirty stray dog; the placid canine having come to a halt on the edge of the walkway below the promenade. Instantly unnerved by the intense way the dog was staring at her – it's strange grey eyes almost contemplative – Ailith shifted her chair away from the edge of the terrace and glanced furtively in the direction Harry had left moments earlier. A horrible feeling settled in her stomach as she recalled the secret her eldest brother told very few. The description of the powerful grim with its shiny dark coat bore little resemblance to the skeletal, flee-bitten canine that was seemingly disinterested in begging wafer cones from those around them, but Ailith remained on her guard.

Before she could stand and call out to Harry, the dog had moved, and, much to her horror, clamped his jaws around the closest length of Harry's broom, pulling it under the railing and taking off with it down the street. Aghast at the sight of her brother's prized new Firebolt being trailed through the scores of parting shoppers, Ailith reacted without thought, sliding her lithe body between the rails of the balustrade and pursuing after the suspected Animagus; all thoughts of whom she was possibly chasing flying from her mind as she fixated on retrieving the bounty the animal was carrying. Breathless as she rounded the corner, losing sight of the mutt as it disappeared into the alleyway reserved for rubbish collection, she fumbled for her inhaler. Whilst most ailments could be allayed with the application of spells and potions, a condition exasperated by physical limitations remained one of few exceptions. Under the guidance of specialist Healers and their own personal Potions Master, Ailith had grown to be as healthy as she could possibly be, but she was still impossibly small for her age and prone to, particularly, respiratory difficulties. The inhaler she carried with her wherever she went, was not all that different from its Muggle variant. Instead of a pressurised canister that dispensed a fine spray of synthetic steroid, a small crystal vial of self-refilling mist with two retractable tubes attached magically issued its healing properties whenever she inhaled through the dispenser. It was fuelled, constantly, by a simmering cauldron in a locked cabinet in Severus' private office, the ingredients charmed to bubble away indefinitely; sending its precious steam directly into its various receptacles.

The dangerously out-of-breath girl was about to administer a crucial second dose of the life-giving mist when something caught her eye. Bending down to pick up the small moving photograph, she gasped when she recognised the casual snapshot as one of herself and the boys having a summer picnic in the hills outside Hogsmeade just several weeks earlier. She had no time to consider the possibility of the displaced photograph being a Portkey until a dirty hand shot out from behind her and grabbed the edge of the charmed paper, its owner muttering an activation password in a coarse voice. Dropping the vial in her surprise, Ailith's blood ran cold as she realised that she had fallen straight into the escaped convict's trap.

* * *

"Where is she? What has he done with her?" spittle flew from Aidan's mouth as he charged into his mother's private chambers, unannounced and wand at the ready. He and Severus had been walking up to the school from Hogsmeade, when the alarm had been raised. Whenever Ailith was without her inhaler, a nondescript bracelet around both Aidan's and Severus' wrist would sound an alert.

They'd rushed back to Diagon Alley, fearing the worst as Harry ought to have been able to supply little Ailith with one of the emergency inhalers all of her teachers and immediate family carried. Harry was frantic when they found him, the boy standing atop a table outside Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, screaming for his sister. Bags of abandoned school supplies lay bundled around the chairs, and Harry's broom was missing. A quick tracking spell had led the trio into a narrow alley behind the store, nothing but a broken inhaler underfoot to suggest Ailith had ever been there. Severus had activated an Emergency Portkey directly into their quarters after that, locking both boys in the dungeon apartment whilst he left to alert Dumbledore and mount a search party. Calling the Ministry was out of the question, for should the girl be found unconscious a routine Identification Charm would reveal her true identity as a Black, thus jeopardising her brothers.

No sooner had Severus swept out of the living room, sealing the only exit behind him in a way that ensured only himself or Dumbledore could retrieve anyone therein – Annie seldom one to want to leave at that time of day – did Aidan confront his mother.  
"Tell me!" he growled, thrusting his wand in her face as he found the woman sprawled on a chaise, a glossy magazine in hand.

Annie Black cast her gaze over the edge of her magazine and glared at her son with glacial eyes. She may have shared the same green hue with her daughter, a shade similar enough that she had once easily been mistaken for Lily's sister, in much the way her daughter now passed as Harry's, but whereas Ailith's eyes twinkled with contentment and humour, Annie's were hardened and almost predatory.  
"I didn't hear you knock, _dear_," she said mockingly.

Aidan scowled in frustration. He wanted nothing more than to hex the information out of the woman, but knew better than to waste time trying to work around her stalling requests; he'd play her game. Rounding on his heel, he stormed back out of the room, closed the door, and knocked on the door urgently and loudly.  
"Yes?" his mother called out enquiringly, though she knew damn well who was at her door. "Who is it?"

"Aidan. May I come in?" he ground out, despising the fact he had to be polite to the woman on a good day, let alone at a time like this.

Annie paused teasingly before granting her son entrance.  
"Enter," she said in a voice dripping with false sincerity.

Aidan stalked into the room with a forced sense of calm, his face taut with restraint.  
"Where is Ailith?" he demanded, in a slightly less hostile voice than what he had used previously, but only just. His patience was wearing thin.

"Good afternoon, _Mother_," his mother prompted in a condescending, sing-song voice, not looking up from her magazine.

Aidan inhaled sharply to bite back the curse on his lips and closed his eyes in utter frustration. Counting to ten – very quickly – in his mind, he urged the petulance from his tone.  
"Good afternoon, Mother," he said in a monotone. "May I inquire as to Ailith's location?"

Annie sighed audibly and lowered her magazine, giving her son a searching look.  
"Didn't she leave with you to go to Diagon Alley?" she said in a conspiring tone, knowing full well that the children had sneaked out without Severus' knowledge, with her help. Everything going according to her plan, she carried on in mock sympathy – the victorious glint in her eyes shamelessly betraying her motives. "Don't tell me you lost her... oh _Aidan_!"

Recognising how his mother was toying with him, effortlessly pushing his buttons so as to throw him off guard and give her a reason to expel him from the room for untoward behaviour, Aidan took a calming breath and averted his mother's gaze.  
"You've been in contact with him," he stated coolly. "Don't even try to deny it! First grandmother, and now him? Why don't you tell me where they went so that Harry and I can join them, hmm? That's what you want, isn't it? To get rid of all of us?"

Annie smiled coyly and closed her magazine, placing it on the lamp table beside her in a slow, graceful moment. Swinging her legs off the chaise, she raised herself up into a seated position and faced her son fully.  
"Why, I would never wish to do that," she said sweetly, though a layer of bitterness was identifiable underneath. "Your stepfather would never forgive me."

"No, I don't suppose he would," said Aidan with a smirk, his mood lightening slightly as he remembered the exchange between the married couple, shortly after his escape from his grandmother's. He narrowed his eyes, quickly dismissing the horrifying thought that perhaps the woman couldn't help him, when he saw the smugness in his mother's expression. "So why? Why hand her over to _him_? What are you trying to pull?"

Exasperated, Annie flung her hands in the air and shook her head.  
"Well I don't know!" she exclaimed. "He was supposed to confront all of you outside Gringotts, in the alley – that's where the Portkey should have dropped him – but no, I gather some things just won't change. Incompetent, as usual... gutless, too..."

Aidan's eyes flashed with vindication, and his anger returned full force. He had been right; his mother had been involved. But just as suddenly, he turned his anger inward; he had accepted his mother's help in sneaking out to London – knowing full well she was up to something – and yet still, he had played directly into her hands. Sure, only Ailith had been taken, but it was the one person Aidan was least prepared to lose. He and Harry could hold their own; Ailith was utterly defenceless without a wand, and to have lost her inhaler as well... Aidan did not even want to think of the consequences.  
"You sent him two Portkeys," he acknowledged, there being no question in his tone. "The second one, where did it take them?"

Annie inspected her nails boorishly.  
"Oh, I don't remember," she said nonchalantly. She looked at him challengingly. "But, find out what I performed the charm on, and it'll come to you."

"Fine. What did you charm into the damn Portkey?" he asked impatiently, knowing as soon as the words left his mouth that his mother would never tell him.

True to form, Annie raised a brow at her son expectantly. Aidan gnashed his teeth together in repressed rage and glared at his mother.  
"If it pleases you, _Mother_," he all but snarled, a hint of desperation in his voice. "Do try to recall what object you charmed into the Portkey... the one that was outbound from Diagon Alley."

Sighing with mock apology, Annie shook her head slowly; a conniving smile gracing her features.  
"So polite," she cooed, stalling for time. She reveled in her son's near desperation. "Alas, nothing comes to mind... but I am sure it is in plain sight."

Catching the furtive look his mother directed towards the door that led to the living room, Aidan narrowed his eyes in consideration. His mother had taken something from the living room, and charmed it into the Portkey. Something that would otherwise be in plain sight. Something that would provide a clue as to where the Portkey led.

_A photograph._

Sparing no more time for niceties, Aidan gave one final glare to his mother and bolted from the room, not caring if his abrupt departure was considered rude. Trying to kill your children was hardly polite, after all. Making a beeline for the wide mantelpiece above the hearth, where scores of picture frames depicted three children throughout different stages in their lives, he scoured the collection critically.

Without waiting for Harry to ask the question, he gestured at the boy with a photo frame.  
"Find one that's missing!" he said quickly, knocking over frames in his haste to inspect the ones left behind. One smashed to the floor at his feet, its occupants scattering out of shot to avoid the shards of glass. Aidan kicked it aside with his feet and pointed as he found an outline on the ledge, where the dust had been disturbed. "There was a picture, here... what was it of?"

Both boys scanned the remaining pictures critically, trying to recall the nature of the absent snapshot.  
"It's a recent one," said Harry with a concentrated frown. "It can't have been there long, else we'd remember..."

Not stopping to share his realisation with his godbother, Aidan's eyes flew open wide and he was on the move. Not even bothering with the portrait hole that led to the hallway outside, he summoned his broom and tightened the clasps of his cloak; which he'd not taken off. Stripping the brand new broom of its price tag, he swung open the door to his and Harry's bedroom with a wave of his wand and sprinted towards the window, mounting his broom and aiming his wand at the glass mid-stride.  
"Reducto!" he yelled, throwing the Exploding Hex at the window, leaping out of its frame amidst the debris of flying glass. Immediately beginning to drop down the steep precipice that surrounded the northern perimeter of the castle – the high-set windows in their dungeon quarters cut right out of the cliff face – he almost lost his stomach as the broom's aerodynamics kicked in, answering to the most subtle of tugs on its handle and swooping out of the free fall. Giving himself no time to recover, he yanked the nose of his broom upwards and around, pulling a sharp 180 as he began a steep climb up and over the castle, bound for the mountains on the other side of Hogsmeade.

Calling out after his godbrother, Harry gripped the edges of the window that should never have been able to be broken and leaned out over the sill, watching in awe as Aidan took to flight. With not a moment more to waste, he disappeared from the window only to return seconds later with his Slytherin team broom, his new Firebolt being lost in Diagon Alley with Ailith. Then, with a little less finesse than his older roommate, Harry mounted his broom and kicked off, ducking his head not a moment too soon as he flew out through the narrow window. Climbing at a distinctly slower rate than the superior broom Aidan was taking full advantage of, Harry cleared the school and scanned the skylines for his godbrother. The magnification of his spectacle lenses enabling him to see a small speck of movement before it disappeared behind the towering form of the Shrieking Shack in the distance, Harry realised what photograph was unaccounted for and followed Aidan's lead.

* * *

Sirius was beside himself. This was not how things were supposed to happen. He knew it was sneaky to transform in the shadows and activate the Portkey from behind, catching his unknown daughter unaware, but he didn't think the girl would start hyperventilating. As soon as they had arrived in the cave, landing in a heap of tangled limbs, the wind knocked out of them both, Sirius' priority had been to calm his unwitting company down, before going back for the boys. But seeing his face had only sent the child into renewed hysterics, the little girl looking at him with eyes so like his Annie's; small hands clawing at her collar as she fought to breathe. He'd made out just one word she said – '_inhaler_' – but had only a scattered comprehension. In the moments since, the girl's breathing had become increasing erratic, until she just gaped breathlessly; steadily turning blue. His mind intact enough to sense the danger in _that_, Sirius pulled the girl up from the floor and shook her by the shoulders, desperately urging her to breathe.

_'Why can't you breathe?_' he cried frantically, having no experience in such matters. His back to the entrance of the cave, the shifting of shadows and whistling of wind was the only warning he had before a heavy weight knocked him down.

A blur of robes hurtled into the cave at breakneck speed. Aidan had jumped from his broom and onto the unsuspecting convict, the momentum forcing them into a roll. Untangling himself from the stunned wizard, whose only efforts to defend himself had ceased once he'd recognised who had tackled him to the ground, Aidan rushed to his sister's aid. From his perspective, it had looked as though Sirius Black had been shaking his sister like a rag doll – and indeed he had been – but it wasn't until Aidan reached Ailith's side that he realised _why_.  
"Oh Merlin!" he said, gasping slightly. Ailith's face was purple now, and her eyes had rolled into the back of her head, exposing only the whites. "Ailith, no!"

Rolling her over so that she was on her back, Aidan moved quickly; tilting Ailith's head back and clearing her airways as best he could. When it became apparent that she was in the dangerous throes of an attack, he fumbled in his robes for her inhaler and, realising his dilemma, drew his wand to do something he'd only ever seen Severus do once in all their lives. Spelling the medicine directly into her lungs was a very difficult and dangerous piece of healing magic that even Madame Pomfrey was reluctant to administer, except in the direst of circumstances. Preferably, she would seek medical attention before an attack got so bad, and be placed in a oxygen bubble misted with potion steam. But one look at his sister, and Aidan knew she was worser for wear than the day Severus had last had to go to such drastic measures.

Once done, he bundled the now unconscious girl into his arms, silent tears falling as he waited for his spellwork to take effect. Though he had never put the magic he had insisted Severus teach him – as a precaution – into practical use, failure was not an option.

"C'mon, Ailith..." he urged her in a pained whisper, whispering frantically into her ear. "Breathe!"

The seconds stretched out like hours as colour slowly returned to Ailith's face, but still she was not yet breathing on her own. The magic not only administered a dose of required medicine, but provided a failing respiratory and circulatory system with the oxygen and bloodflow that it needed to survive. Thinking, wretchedly, that he had restored bloodflow to his sister, but not oxygen, Aidan fumbled shakily for a pulse. Finding a weak, thready thrum under the tips of his fingers, Aidan bit his lip and held his sister tight, completely ignoring his captive audience as he waited for her breathing to restart.  
"C'mon Ailith," he urged, the hand that had been searching for a pulse now cradling his sister's cheeks and wiping away forgotten tears. "Wake up for me, let me know you're okay..."

A whistling sound emitted from a still-too-rattly chest as the magic took hold and breathe for Ailith. Her fingers spasmed as blood rushed to their tips; her little heart beginning to beat with increasing strength. Looking up just in time to see her lips twitch, Aidan met his sister's gaze as her eyes fluttered back into consciousness. Ailith's mouth gaped open, hopelessly trying to suck in air; a pained look settling over her face as she reached full awareness.

The fingers of his wand hand twitched guiltily. The spell he cast would effectively breathe for his sister until it was removed, irrespective of any will on her part to do it herself. He knew the reversal as a matter of course, but dare not use it until a Madame Pomfrey was well in hand to step in should it be removed and Ailith not have it in her to breathe on her own. Still, Aidan was dismayed to be the cause of his sister's discomfort.  
"I'm sorry, Ailee; I know it feels strange, but I can't take the spell off just yet," he said apologetically. "You had an attack, and it was too late to do anything else... and even if it would have helped, I didn't have any potion with me."

Whilst Ailith's inhaler worked to stop mild swelling, slightly more severe attacks called for the potion the inhaler's steam was originated from. But Ailith had already stopped breathing entirely by the time he reached her. It was a miracle she had awoken so quickly at all.  
"Just relax... that's it," he said encouragingly. A murmur of sound rose from his sister's throat, and he held up a hand to stop her. "No, don't try to speak –"

His sister's wince told him that she had learned that the hard way; the vibrations of her vocal chords having been choked out of her before they could form a proper sound. A lone tear rolled down her cheek and her neck convulsed with the force of an escaping sob... something that only caused her more discomfort, as her attempts to communicate conflicted with the uncontrollable rise and fall of her lungs.  
She blinked away her tears and looked up at her brother helplessly.

Aidan was bereft. Brushing the hair out of her face with his free hand, he wiped away her tears with the pads of his thumb and leaned over her prone form until they were eye to eye.  
"Concentrate on looking at me, Ailith," he said, his voice cracking slightly. He couldn't move her on his own until he was certain she was calm. If she fought the magic too much, somehow cancelled the spell and attempted to breathe on her own before her attack was fully over, then she could relapse and Aidan didn't know if he'd be so lucky with his spellwork a second time. "Don't think about needing to breathe yourself... clear your mind..."

Regaining use of her limbs, Ailith tugged at his sleeve and brought one hand up into her brother's line of sight. Giving Aidan a thumbs up, she quickly opened her hand and twisted her wrist, palms up.  
_'What happened?'_ Aidan translated in his mind. When they had been kidnapped and held in Grimmauld Place, he and Ailith had developed a simple sign language to quietly communicate between themselves. At barely three years of age, Ailith had only just begun talking in small sentences; her voice had been loud in a way only a small child's could be, and was prone to drawing the attention of their grandmother. The signing had began as normal gestures, until the astute older sibling had identified the possibilities.

Aidan flicked his wrist up, letting the sleeve of his robe slide down and reveal his bracelet. It wasn't a sign, but it got the point across. Blinking once in place of a nod, Ailith reached up and crooked her finger at her brother, urging his face within reach. Stroking her index finger down the side of his cheek, Ailith brushed out a fine dusting of glass from one of the many fresh scratches, brows raised at her brother in pointed question. He flicked his eyes towards his discarded broom in response and removed another piece of glass from his face, flicking it outwards.  
'_Flew through window_,' he improvised, knowing Ailith would catch on.

Ailith waggled her index finger in the air. When she was younger, it was the closest she could get to tracing the letter 'S'. Aidan knew she was asking after Severus.

Sticking his thumb between his first two fingers, Aidan fisted his hand and knocked it on the stone floor of the cave.  
_'Locked us in,_' he silently explained, the symbol alone meaning 'locked', but the boy knowing that Ailith would know from experience what he meant. Severus' first instinct when one of them was in danger was to lock the other two up, keeping them out of harm's way.

'_What happened_?' Ailith repeated her earlier question; this time her eyes flickered towards the escaped convict in the shadows – their father.

Holding his fist out as though he was about to strike someone, his knuckles parallel to the ground, he opened and closed his fist once.  
'_Mother,'_he positively spat, the jerky movements of his hand showing his derision towards the woman who had put them in this mess as well as any verbal assault.

Sticking her thumb up, she flicked her wrist twice in a clockwise direction, before giving him a thumbs down.  
_'What did you do?'_ Ailith signed, eyes ablaze. She'd long since become desensitised to her mother's disdainful behaviour towards them, and she was curious to know what her fiercely protective brother had done to the woman once he found out.

Opening his hand, he held out his palm like a beggar before turning his palm downwards and waving it twice in a horizontal motion.  
'_Nothing,' _he signed. The look of promise in his eyes added a calculating 'yet'. _'Nothing, yet...'_

"Aidan! Ailith!" a calling voice grew closer as its owner located the impossible to find cave and landed on the ridge outside. Harry loitered at the entrance as he noted that Black stood between himself and his goal. Looking past the unarmed man warily – the man who was slumped in the corner dejectedly with tears cutting a river through the years of grime on his face, hardly looked a threat – Harry inched into the cavern slightly and sidled along the wall furthest from his escaped godfather. "You guys okay?"

Tearing his eyes away from his sister, Aidan blinked up at Harry.  
"What took you so long?" he asked sternly, though his heart wasn't in it. He shifted his weight so that he could help his sister sit up. "Ailee, we're going to have to move you, okay? Don't just stand there, Harry... _help!_"

When more than just Harry rushed forward to help – the despondent prisoner snapping into awareness and considering himself of some use – Aidan's wand was in hand.  
"I didn't ask you!" he growled at his father, levelling the man with an icy glare as Harry was quick to relieve him of his burden. Rising to his feet, he shot a quick look back at his younger siblings; his wand never leaving its target. "Back off!"

Harry had one of Ailith's arms slung over his shoulder, one of his hands gripped tightly around her waist as he helped her to stand; the fingers of Ailith's free hand rubbing at her throat, as though to assure herself she was actually breathing. In his other hand, Harry had his wand raised at his godsister's kidnapper; a scowl set on his face. Seeing this, Aidan pursed his lips and took charge, the sight of Ailith on her feet and with a great deal more colour in her face emboldening him to do what he was about to do next.  
"Harry, get her out of here! Cast a Sticking Charm on your broom and fly directly to the Infirmary – Poppy never closes her office window at this time of day," ordered Aidan, his eyes not leaving the man he had pinned in the corner with his wand. If there was anyone he trusted his sister with, it was Harry, and though he did not want to have her leave his sight at that moment, he knew he couldn't just leave without addressing the silent convict in some way. Thinking of a better idea, he shook his head in the direction of his own broom. "On second thoughts, take mine. You won't get the same aerodynamics with a passenger, but it'll still be twice as fast."

When he was satisfied that his estranged father would not act, Aidan took a chance and lowered his wand just long enough to help his sister onto the broomstick. He gave his sister something to lean against whilst Harry straddled the broom behind her, snaking his arms either side of her to grip the handle. Then, saving his godbrother the trouble of casting the promised Sticking Charm, Aidan waved his wand and secured Ailith first to the broom, and then to the boy behind her. Squeezing her shoulder in support, he bent down and kissed her brow.  
"Just concentrate on keeping yourself calm and relaxed, all right?" he urged her, smiling encouragingly – not only was there more and more awareness in his sister's expression, but she was almost home free. He nodded at the boy he trusted with the girl's life. "Harry's got you, and there's no possible way you can fall off without someone reversing the charm first."

Ailith nodded slightly, but she was still frowning.  
_'What are you going to do?_' she signed quickly. At Aidan's hesitation to reply, she slumped back against Harry and rolled her eyes. Then, repeatedly hitting her fingers against her palm, she clapped with one hand before resting that same hand over her heart. _'Come back to me.'_

Holding his little finger down with his thumb in an imitation of a Muggle Scout's honour, Aidan tapped his hand against his chest and, kissing the pads of the outstretched three fingers, leaned forward and touched them to his sister's brow.  
_'I promise on your life,_' he silently vowed, exchanging a meaningful look with both his sister and godbrother in turn. He hadn't forgotten what his stepfather had warned them about Sirius, but then he wasn't planning on staying long.

With an acknowledging nod and a warning look that assured Aidan that he would return if the boy was not far behind them, Harry tightened his hold on the broomstick and kicked off, shooting out through the entrance of the cave with unprecedented speed. His back turned to the man in the shadows, Aidan waited until the escaping broomstick was just a speck on the horizon before confronting his father.  
"Was she really that unwanted, that both of her parents would try to kill her?" he said forlornly, his eyes still fixed on the skyline outside. He turned slowly and looked his father in the eye. "She almost died!"

"I didn't know!" insisted Sirius, both to the child's very existence, and whatever underlying condition that had caused her to stop breathing. He took a step forward, but jolted to a stop haltingly when his son raised a wand at him. "Please... I just want to know... will she be all right?"

Aidan returned his gaze to the air outside the cave and considered his response.  
"Yes. She'll be fine once she gets to Poppy," he vowed. "No thanks to you!"

Faltering in surprise, Sirius gaped slightly.  
"I would never hurt you... any of you! Don't you remember anything?"

"I remember too much, some would say," leered Aidan, keeping his wand steady.

Eyes sparking with hope, Sirius shook all over as he considered the possibilities.  
"Then you remember Peter! You remember what you told me that night... right?" he said in a rush. "I can be free! Don't you see? We can be together again..."

Aidan's expression hardened, and Sirius took a step back, surprised by the boy's reaction.  
"Oh I remember Peter," said Aidan snidely, thinking it typical that the only thing his 'father' could think about was securing his own freedom. He scowled and shook his head. "I remember pitching a fit until someone would listen to me, but you know what? I didn't see a Mark on his arm. My memories only solidified his status as a _hero_."  
Aidan's voice was laced with distaste as he spat out the word. He laughed mirthlessly.  
"Were you never given a copy of your arrest report? You went after Peter to retrieve Voldemort's wand, don't you remember? He'd taken it from the scene to draw your attention away from the survivors..." his voice trailed off as he smirked at his own joke. According to Ministry files, there weren't even any survivors from that night... none that lived beyond a week, in any event. His own presence had remained a secret until the case had been closed, Dumbledore exploiting his ties to the Ministry to keep the eventual revelation of Aidan's presence and evident survival out of the press.

"You don't believe that, do you?" said Sirius desperately, aghast at the idea of someone who meant the world to him thinking the worst.

"It doesn't matter what I do or do not believe," said Aidan bitterly, not giving anything away. Years of conditioning had ensured that he toed the Ministry line on the event, but deep down he'd never quite accepted their version of the truth. It was hardly what mattered, anyway, and he was quick to let the man know. "You left."

Seeing the look of abandonment that passed over Aidan's face, Sirius felt as though he had been swept back through time and he was faced once again with the pleading little boy who had begged him not to leave. And oh, what he would give at that moment to go back and do things differently. The realisation that his innocence meant little in the grand scheme of things – children being of the sort to love their parents no matter what, so long as they were _there_ – Sirius fell to his knees and cradled his head in his hands in defeat. Thinking, then, of the state his son had often been in after just a few days with Annie, the devastated man did not even want to think of what _twelve years_ in the woman's custody had brought upon those in her care. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a strangled sob. Raising his head, finally, he held out his hands in offering and looked up at his firstborn with tearful eyes.  
"Please... let me make this right. Just tell me what to do!" he begged.

Aidan's reaction was unflinchingly hard, though inside the little boy in him was screaming.  
"Stay out of our lives," he said in a steely tone. The time for apologies and forgiveness had come and gone. Too much had happened in the intervening years. "There's nothing you can do. You're too late."

"Don't say that. Don't say that, Aidy-boy," said Sirius brokenly, slipping into denial. Wringing his hands together in a desperate bid to stop himself from leaping forward and holding the boy, curses be damned, he shook his head furiously. "Don't you remember? Don't you realise how much I love you? You're my son! I would do anything... _anything..._"

_'Except stay when I needed you,'_ Aidan thought scathingly. His expression darkened and he summoned both his Harry's stolen Firebolt and the Slytherin house broom his godbrother had arrived on.  
"Your son is dead," he stated coolly, shrinking the older of the two brooms and preparing to leave with the other. He glared at his father, flawlessly denying the heartache buried deep inside. "My name is Adrian Prince now. You left your family in the ruins of Godric's Hollow. Deal with it."

Watching mutely as his son turned to leave, Sirius stumbled to his feet, the questions coming to mind hard and fast.  
"Wait!" he rasped, clutching at the air desperately as his arms fell short of reaching the retreating boy. To his surprise, Aidan turned and regarded him with an expressionless look. Taking full advantage, he opened his mouth to speak. "Just tell me... what did she do? You're all okay, right?"

Aidan stiffened, his father's evident concern going against every part of him that wanted to push the man away and never look back. He'd been so burned when his father had left him that night, that he never wanted to find himself in that position again.  
"We're as okay as we can be, under the circumstances... again, no thanks to you!" Aidan growled pointedly, shaking his head. Sneering in satisfaction as he found something that would wound his father deeply, he held his head high and proud. "But not to worry, our _stepfather_ gave us everything we needed."

_Stepfather_... Sirius' head spun.  
"Snape..." he whispered, blanching slightly in horror, remembering the scene he had witnessed in Diagon Alley; the familiarity the reviled man had shared with his son. His look of jealousy and disgust not missed by his child, he scrambled to account for his reaction. "No, wait... you're being all right is all that matters! Don't go! Hand me over to the Ministry... do to me what you want... just don't leave. Not yet. I want to know more... let me die knowing at least that much..."

A conflicted look passed through Aidan's eyes and he considered his options. Did he really want the man to die? And die he would in his current state, with the Dementors after him and no one or nothing to help him. Remembering his promise to his sister, and how ineffective his own pleas had been over a decade earlier, when their situations had been reversed, Aidan held firm.  
"I cannot stay. I promised my sister," he said, charitably giving his father a reason in much the same way the man had done for him. Then, knowing that he would probably regret his choice later, he bent down and unsheathed the spare wand that he carried, relinquishing both it and Harry's team broom to the bewildered fugitive. "But I will not be known for leaving you without a means to defend yourself. I wouldn't want to be just like you."

Sirius accepted the items gratefully, but looked as though he had just been struck by the boy's words. He needed no reminding that he'd left his son with less than favourable odds, the night he got arrested and left the boy in his mother's sole custody. Awed by the unexpected show of charity, he turned the wand over in his hands reverently, but then froze as he recognised the weathered wood.  
"This is my father's wand!" he gasped, not wanting to know how the child got his hands on it, but asking the question nevertheless. "How did you get it?"

"Souvenir from grandmother's," said Aidan with a sneer. He kept his chin up, defiant. "Saved my life. I see you anywhere near my family again and it might just save yours."

Sirius' expression was mixed. On one hand, he wanted to demand an explanation about how his son had come to be in Grimmauld Place – and he'd had to of been there for an extended period of time, or at least visited on multiple occasions in order to find where his mother had hidden her late husband's wand – whilst on the other hand he was mindful of the boy's threat.  
"I'll stay away. Whatever you want..." he said in defeat, realising that his boy would only return to him on his own terms, if at all. "Just promise me one thing. I know... I know I don't deserve it, but please, hear me out! Watch out for Pettigrew, will you? Watch out for the rat. He never died. He's at Hogwarts, Aidy! In Harry's dorm!"

"Nonsense," said Aidan, shaking his head dismissively. "The dormitories are well spelled against intruders, and none of his house mates keep such disgusting pets..."

"But it's Weasley's rat! The boy is Harry's age, and his whole family are Gryffindors... they have to be in the same house!" spluttered Sirius, pausing for the first time to consider the possibility that the eldest Weasley son had rebuked family tradition and Sorted differently, much like he himself had done decades earlier.

Realising his father's presumptuousness, Aidan smiled inwardly but was not about to volunteer any information about his godbrother. The revelation that Peter Pettigrew had possibly been hiding at the school all this time, as the Familiar of a boy in Harry's year had been something of a shocking surprise to Aidan, and he was not about to admit it without first doing his own investigating. It confused him as to where the escaped convict could ever get such information from, but he did not have the time nor inclination to question the man further. Nodding vigorously, he indulged his father.  
"Fine, I'll look into it," he said sincerely. Whilst a small, repressed part of him wanted to see his father return to be the sort of man he once was, Aidan was motivated primarily by his own need for vindication. For years people had dismissed his testimony as the biased ramblings of a hurt little boy, one too blind to see the truth about his father that was staring him in the face; so to prove the Ministry wrong once and for all would satisfy his ego, above all else.

Before the boy could mount his broom, Sirius bounded forward and took his chance, resting a tentative hand on his son's shoulder.  
"Please," he whimpered, holding back a sob that the joy of just being in contact with his son once more had wrought from him. He took a steadying breath and continued. "Let me know your sister's okay. Send word somehow... there's an elf that can find me... your mother knows which one..."

Aidan's eyes narrowed as he recalled his mother's role in the afternoon's events. Realising from the man's words that his mother had to of broken her promise never to call upon Kreacher again, he scowled.  
"_Kreacher_," he spat spitefully. "No need to pussyfoot around; he and I are more than familiar. So what else did my _dear _mother send you, hmmm? You do realise that she was hoping for me to kill you, right? After you'd inadvertently killed my sister, no doubt. Land myself in Azkaban... that's what she'd have wanted. Ironic, huh?"

A dark look crossed over Sirius' face as he considered the possibility of his wife becoming even more depraved and harmful towards his children in his absence. Bristling slightly, he tried to deny his son's suspicions, but then realised that he no longer knew his wife, or what she was capable of. Thinking, then, that the best thing to do would be to somehow get the woman away from the children she so evidently posed a threat to, he pulled a familiar looking photograph from the pockets of his tattered prison robes.  
"This was sent to act as a Portkey. It's what brought us here," said Sirius, not realising that he was stating the obvious. "Take it. It's proof she was involved."

Aidan snatched the photograph away from his father and scowled, affronted by how condescending the man was being, even if it was purely by accident.  
"I know full well what it means," he informed the man who had been out of his life so long. "I don't need you telling me!"

Then, without so much as a backward glance, he threw his leg over his broom and kicked off, the conversation over as far as he was concerned.

"Love you," his father called after him, his voice, whilst barely above a whisper, carrying itself all the way to Aidan's ears.

Aidan nearly fell off his broom as he realised that the feeling was not entirely one-sided. Scowling to himself as he flattened his body out along the shiny new woodgrain, he considered the possibilities: maybe Harry was right earlier. Maybe his logic was being blinded by the part of him inside that would forever remain four years old. Leaving the Black family's vault key at Gringotts was one thing... what would his family think of him when they found out that he'd handed the man a wand and broomstick as well?

'_What have I done_?' he thought to himself, utterly remiss as he sped towards the school in the distance. Finding no other way, he swore himself to secrecy and vowed to dissect the cause of his actions as soon as his sister was well again. What his family didn't know, wouldn't hurt them.

...At least it had better not.

**End Chapter.**


	6. Returned

**Disclaimer:** If it belonged to me, I would not be utilising my lunch break at the workplace I must frequent in order to pay the bills to do these edits…

**A/N: **All right, so the (uni) semester ended 3 weeks ago, but I required extensions for one of my major assessments (which I profoundly believe I screwed up…) and was demonstrably brain-fried from the High Distinction I pulled in the other subject (whoot!) that I have had something of a computer boycott after work these past few weeks. Throw in an unprecedented Spring heatwave (southern hemisphere here people…) and the fact my work is still in the process of being transferred over to my new laptop (thus christened Cam – yes, I name my hardware) and that about sums up the delay. Not that it is an excuse I deserve forgiveness on account of, rather I seek understanding.

**Last time… **(adopts dramatic baritone in the manner of all-important ADR Narrator) _**Aidan and Harry discover Annie's involvement in Ailith's kidnapping from Diagon Alley (by Sirius). Severus locked them in the dungeons (not to be mistaken on a scale of neglect as being akin to being locked in a cupboard under the stairs because, of course, the dungeons is where their quarters are located LOL) and rushed off to inform Dumbledore of the situation and mount a search. The boys deduce from Annie's cryptic clues where the Portkey she'd provided Sirius would have taken him (and Ailith) and they bust out and rescue their sister. They find Ailith in the throes of a respiratory attack and, after saving his sister's life, Aidan sends her off with Harry as he chooses to stay behind and confront his father for the first time in 12 years. Before leaving Sirius in the caves outside Hogsmeade, Aidan leaves the man with Orion Black's wand (a souvenir from Aidan's time at Grimmauld Place, which he had carried ever since as a back up wand) and Harry's team broom (Nimbus 2001). The signs that he is again doubting the man's guilt are beginning to re-emerge.**_

**Updated: Monday 30 November 2009**

**Chapter VI Returned**

You could cut through the tension in the Great Hall with a knife. In the hour since Ailith had lost her inhaler, Dumbledore had recalled all of the Hogwarts staff to the castle; the faculty consisting of the most trustworthy group of people the venerable headmaster could muster in such a short period of time. Of the alumni, only three staff members – asides from Severus and himself – knew of the children's true identities, and of the three, only two were currently present. Together, they were having a hard time explaining to the majority just why they could not call in the Ministry.  
"Severus does not wish to attract media attention," said Dumbledore, trying to explain.

"But we're undermanned! We've no experience in this!" piped up the Ancient Runes professor, one of the few staff to have had very little contact with the children raised in residence over the years.

"Nonsense!" Minerva said, in a rare show of support for the Potion Master's decision. "How many times have we scoured the premises for a lost student? We all fought in the last war to some degree... we can face down whatever threat lies out there-"

"Wait, I thought the child was just lost," said Madame Sprout shrewdly. "Are you saying she has been _kidnapped_?"

"All the more reason to call an Auror, Albus!" said Professor Vector, rounding off his earlier argument.

"Please. Please, we're wasting time!" snapped Madame Pince, wearing her heartache on her sleeve. As curator of the school library, she'd come to know all three Prince children well over the years; the quiet shelves of her domain providing a peaceful refuge only a book lover could understand. She'd often helped the eldest with his comprehension in the years before they'd gone 'abroad', and had watched with pride upon their return as the intelligent boy responded in kind; patiently teaching his younger siblings how to read. During the term, the children had kept their distance from the enrolled students and limited their visits to Hogsmeade weekends and holidays; but over the summers she could always count on one of the three to be readily on hand, eager to help catalog the new books and prepare for the year ahead. As the smallest and least active of the trio, Ailith had by far been her favourite; years of poorly health prompting the girl to spend a lot of her time indoors. Though the youngest child had lamented not being able to do all the same things her brothers could, she had happily taken to the distractions the kind librarian had provided for her and a close rapport had been forged. The thought, then, of the child being alone in the big wide world – without her medication, if what Severus feared were true – it was enough to send the librarian frantic.  
"We should be out there, looking for her!" she added.

Dumbledore looked remorseful.  
"Perhaps someone ought to see where Poppy's gone off to," he suggested, reluctant to start the drawing up search sectors without her.

"Maybe we should just start the meeting without her," one of the professors at the back suggested boorishly.

"I'll go," volunteered Severus restlessly, the man already on his feet. He headed towards the door. "Albus, you start the procedures. I'll inform Pomfrey."

Albus rose to his feet in concern.  
"Do not go after her on your own, my boy," he said, silently reminding the impatient wizard of the other two children in his care who needed him. "We'll find her."

Severus' jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth. The old man knew him too well, but did not appreciate being told. He knew it would be folly to go after Ailith and her suspected captor without assistance; what he'd told the children the night before held true even for himself – Black was unpredictable, and dangerous. If not for the children under his protection he would welcome his life as forfeit if it meant bringing his childhood nemesis down, but until Aidan was of age he could not leave the children vulnerable to Annie's 'care'. Not bothering to answer his elder, he swept out of the room urgently, bound for the infirmary.

* * *

"Oh, Aidan! There you are!" said a harried looking medi-witch in relief as she entered into her side room just in time to see the missing teenager sweep in through the window. Reaching out instinctively to help the boy as he leaped from the bed and rested his broomstick alongside its partner, she found it hard to believe that the young man before her was the same little boy she'd coaxed into a bed in that very room a little over a decade earlier; he just seemed so much older.

Noting from the presence of the Firebolt that Harry and Ailith had arrived safely, he was quick to descend upon his surprised hostess.  
"Where are they? Is she okay?" he said, quick to side step around the woman and duck out of the room; cutting the shortest path through the nurse's office to reach the ward beyond.

Snatching up the medical supplies she'd come for, Poppy Pomfrey bustled behind the boy and was quick to offer her prognosis.  
"She'll be fine, young man," said Poppy with a hint of pride. She'd grown quite close to the over-protective brother in the years since Ailith's birth; the boy insisting on watching everything she did and learning what he could in turn. Coming up beside the anxious teen, she jostled the vials in her hand in order to rest a hand on the boy's shoulder. "She's very lucky to have a fast-acting brother like you. You saved her life, without a doubt."

Aidan expelled a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding and looked to the woman he'd grown to confide in with wide eyes, the events of the preceding hour beginning to take their toll.  
"You taught me everything I know," he whispered. Reaching up and taking the woman's hand from his shoulder and squeezing it. Seeing the burden in her other hand, he shook himself to his senses and frowned. "Wherever are my manners! Let me take those for you... I hope our unorthodox arrival did not disturb you..."

"Nonsense, you know I keep the window open for you," said Poppy, remembering fondly how, during their first time in the air, the two boys had circled the tower in a relentless search for her window. Whilst Annie had been pregnant with Ailith, the boys had spent a lot of time being cared for by the maternal school nurse in the side room she'd rested them in that very first night. Then, after Ailith was born and became such a frequent patient on the ward, the older pair had come to see the modest little room as an extension of their private domain. Artwork and school projects covered the walls still, the tutoring of all three children having been distributed amongst a select few staff on the premises in the years before they respectively turned 11.

Taking the small bottles of potions from the woman who had reminded him most of his beloved 'Mama Lily' over the years – the two woman having shared a distinct compassion towards others and uncanny ability to make those around them feel good about themselves – he halted at the heavy door that led into the ward and looked to the woman in question.  
"She's really all right?" he asked in a small voice, almost unwilling to accept that a recovery could be so easy after having found his sister in such a state; blue and lifeless.

Both of her hands free, the nurturing witch wrapped both arms around the boy firmly, careful not to disturb any of the bottles in his arms. The boy's flinch remained a stark reminder of the harm the year he'd spent away from the school had inflicted; Poppy remaining one of only a handful who could come into physical contact with the lad with such a minimal reaction. Muttering a good-natured jibe about giving up on convincing stubborn boys, she urged him into the ward; pushing him in front of her.

"Aidan!" Harry was on his feet in an instant, the worried boy's hair still windswept from their flight as he let go of Ailith's hand and rushed to their wayward sibling. "You're back! You said you would be _right_ behind me!"

"I had to take a little detour," said Aidan distractedly, looking around Harry's shoulder and trying to step around the boy in his haste to reach his sister who, whilst propped up against pillows and quite conscious, was still looking decidedly worse for wear. He explained further. "Fix certain windows so certain people wouldn't be able to pinpoint how we got out..."

Harry stepped back and gave Aidan a quizzical look, wondering how Aidan could be concerned with covering their tracks at a time like this. Even now, Aidan didn't quite know why he'd taken the time to fly to the far end of the school and fix the window to their bedroom; he supposed he just wanted to prolong the moment he arrived, just in case the news was bad.  
"Yeah, well Ailee was getting worried," said Harry, sounding frazzled; belying his own concern.

Aidan nudged shoulders with the younger boy teasingly, and shook his head solemnly.  
"You had no need to... either of you," he gave Harry a pointed look as he closed the distance between himself and his sister and taking a seat on the edge of her bed. Setting down the potions he still carried on the bedside table, he braced an arm over the prone girl and leaned over her protectively, inspecting her state with worried eyes. When he was satisfied that she was the best she could be – under the circumstances – he smiled slightly. "You know I'd never break my promise."

In what was a familiar habit, Ailith reached up and twirled the edge of Aidan's hair as it hung forward, almost tickling his shoulder.  
"I know," she sighed, the potion Poppy had been quick to administer after cancelling the spell that breathed for her had reduced the swelling of her airwaves and soothed her throat, but her voice was still hoarse. "But what _took_ you so long? I looked behind us and you didn't follow straight away..."

"She got quite hysterical, mate. It was a damned good thing you're so good at Sticking Charms," said Harry, shuddering slightly at the memory of almost losing control of his broom as Ailith tried to urge him to go back for the lagging Aidan. "We all remember what Severus said... what were you thinking, staying behind?"

Aidan averted his eyes and sighed tiredly. Catching on from their veiled conversation that Aidan had just rescued his sister from none other than the escaped Sirius Black, Poppy was quick to alleviate pressure from the boy – there would be plenty of time for questions later, that much she knew. Slipping into her well-worn role, she shuffled past the able-bodied teens and began sorting through the potions Aidan had helped her retrieve from her stores. Seemingly completely oblivious to the conversation going on around her, she began giving the children an update on Ailith's condition.  
"She started breathing on her own as soon as I lifted the spell," she said kindly, instantly drawing Aidan's attention as the boy's eyes sought out the sight of his sister's chest rising and falling in their usual, steady rhythm. Reaching around the stunned boy, she uncorked a vial of thick paste and dabbed a bit onto her fingers. "This topical solution shall help reduce pain and swelling when it is absorbed by the skin. If you would tilt your head up dear, I will demonstrate where it is to be applied... that's it."  
She dabbed a liberal amount of the sweet smelling salve across Ailith's jugular, where the windpipe was closest to the skin, and hummed soothingly.  
"Your voice is still a little rough around the edges... if your throat is still irritating you, you can help yourself to a lozenge. Harry, if you could fetch the jar... over there, on the opposite side of her bed. Good boy! Now, Aidan... if you could fetch your sister's inhaler, it's behind you just there; I can't quite reach it with you in my way. She'll need a dose whenever you can detect that nasty rasp, and give her that potion there whenever she feels like she needs it... I'm trusting you to put those ears of yours to good use, now..."

"Wait, are you going somewhere?" said Aidan, incredulous. Whilst he felt fully capable of caring for his sister when she was at this level of illness, it surprised him to see the woman relinquishing control of her territory.

Poppy looked apologetic, but inwardly she was congratulating herself for so deftly shifting the boys' attention. They would be fixated on Ailith's needs until they positively smothered the girl with concern and she gained the strength to fob them off; giving Aidan a little bit of time before he had to confront the outcome of the untimely reunion with his father.  
"I would love to stay, but Dumbledore sent word of an urgent meeting before you all arrived," said Poppy honestly. She faltered as the pieces clicked together in her mind. "Oh good heavens, he probably wanted to meet about you, dears... I really think I ought to go tell them the news..."

"Oh you _think_?" a voice snapped from the doorway, fraught with surprise and concern... concern that was quickly turning into anger. Severus slid the door closed quietly – the man in his quiet rages far more intimidating than when he threw his potion ingredients at incompetent OWL students – and spied the two boys in turn. "How did you get out of the dungeons?"

Eyes twinkling at the thought of how some of the man's fearful first years might take such a statement – knowing full well that his sister's wellbeing would absolve him for his cheek – Aidan twitched his lips.  
"Do you really think we'd tell you?" he said with an air of mysteriousness. His face turning serious just in time to curb a turbulent response from their stepfather, he gestured towards Ailith. "Look at it this way, if Harry and I didn't have our way out, Ailith wouldn't be here now."

"I would have found her. I told you I would!" said Severus, relieved beyond words that the little girl had returned safely, but horrified at the thought of the two boys placing themselves in such unnecessary danger. "There was no need for you to place yourselves at such risk!"

"If they hadn't, Severus, Ailith would not have lived," said Poppy quietly, not liking what the boys had done anymore than the closely guarded stepfather, but unable to deny the facts. "As it was, Aidan had to revive her. Used some fairly advanced Healing Magic to spell the air into her lungs, he did... you should consider yourself proud, Severus, for raising such quick-thinking lads."

A murderous look flickered across Severus' face as he considered what might have happened.  
"I'll kill him," he said darkly, referring to the man who had undoubtedly taken Ailith from Diagon Alley against her will, causing her to lose her inhaler and induce her attack.

"It's not his fault he didn't know what to do!" Aidan blurted, surprising himself more so than any of the others. Quick to recover his resolve, he scowled and retrieved the now worn photograph from a pocket; thrusting it forward angrily. "This was the Portkey. There was a letter too, no doubt. Funny how the writer never thought to give a little forewarning about Ailith's condition. And why don't you ask _your wife_ about her peculiar choice of messengers..."

Severus blinked in astonishment. When Aidan referred to his mother in such a way, the boy was invariably furious at the woman... and usually with good reason. Recognising the photograph in his stepson's hand as something that could only have been taken from their private quarters, he contemplated his wife's involvement in Ailith's disappearance before another thought struck him. Gripping the boy's shoulder firmly, as though fearful the teenager would leave and pursue the murky memory of the father he'd never been able to live up to, he looked his stepson in the eye.  
"You encountered Black," he stated flatly, his grip tightening compulsively.

Aidan nodded distractedly and averted his stepfather's gaze; knowing that to look the man in the eyes whilst at his most vulnerable would give it all away. Sensing the boy's deflection, Severus cupped the teen's chin and tilted his head up to meet his eye.  
"Aidan, you can tell me," he said in a level tone. He relaxed when a silvery gaze met his. "Aidan?"

Startled by the subtle nudge of his stepfather trying to penetrate his mind, Aidan jerked away from the man and gaped, a look of betrayal colouring his features.  
"Aidan, it's not like that! I only wanted to gauge your demeanour," said Severus quickly. "Your memories are yours alone. I would never seek to access them without permission!"

"I don't want you _gauging my demeanour_," snapped Aidan, feeling violated all the same. "You have nothing to worry about! Nothing happened!"

Coal black eyes narrowed in suspicion, but before Severus could voice his concerns, Aidan had turned on his heel and fled the infirmary. Knowing better than to pursue the proud teenager when he sought to be alone, the revered Potions Master folded his arms across his chest and turned his attentions to the other two children in the infirmary.

"Tell me everything," he said.

* * *

She found him in a shadowed alcove of the Restricted Section, the hidden little nook a favourite of the boy who had called Hogwarts home for a majority of his life.  
"A hiding place defeats its purpose if it is the first place people think to look," the stern voice of the illusive Hogwarts librarian was unnaturally kind as her face softened uncharacteristically.

The woman's about face in private circles having lost its novelty years ago, Aidan was unaffected by her compassion. Shrugging away from the hook-nosed witch's advances, he glared as her profile reminded him of the wizard he had just fled from.  
"Did Severus send you?" he said hoarsely, his voice laced with defeat as he found himself boxed into a corner. He gave the woman a dirty look. "Are you going to try and pry into my mind, too?"

Irma Pince pursed her lips into an impossibly thin line and frowned, her familiar sour expression coming through as her thoughts darkened.  
"Well that depends if you are hiding something that you shouldn't," she said in clipped tones, sounding decidedly defensive.

"I should have known you would take Severus' side," snapped Aidan bitterly, standing abruptly and moving to pass the woman.

Irma Pince was having none of it. Blocking the sullen boy's path, she nudged him back into the narrow seat he had been curled up on and towered over him unthreateningly.  
"What happened today, my little Prince?" she said quietly, reaching down and framing the boy's face with her hands. Taking in the sight of the faint scratches and the tell-tale smell of the outdoors, she frowned. "You went looking for your sister. Did you find her?"  
Aidan nodded slowly, and the librarian drew her conclusions.  
"You met your father, and Severus did not take it well."

Aidan jolted in surprise, but covered it well.  
"You know him well," said Aidan with a smirk. He had been back from Grimmauld Place for just a few months when he uncovered the woman's closely-guarded secret. The marriage between Severus and his mother had strained to breaking point during the time he had been in absconded in London, and upon his return he had begun to notice a peculiar connection between his stepfather and the school librarian; the fiercely private Hogwarts professor spending a lot of time with the equally illusive woman.

"Of course I know him, you foolish boy!" said Madame Pince abrasively, the wary old woman still coming to terms with how the uncannily observant boy had picked up on the relationship between herself and the wizard who sought to keep her hidden in plain sight. As she allowed her eyes to sweep over the child she had come to see as something of a great nephew, or even grandson, her expression softened once more, and she rested her hand atop the boy's head. "Just like I know you, Aidan."

Relaxing, Aidan sighed and nuzzled his head against the arm still reaching out to him, the multi-faceted librarian in front of him one of few people he had been able to trust with his secrets ever since discovering her own.  
"He's innocent, Madam Irma," said Aidan in a whisper, the informal title for the woman the closest he could get to acknowledging the woman as a familial figure, without raising questions about her connection to the family and reminding himself of relatives he'd rather forget. "I know everyone just thinks I am a biased little boy, but I _know _it in my _soul_! I cast it aside for so many years, but... but seeing him again... I can't believe he did wrong."

"He was convicted of a crime, Aidan," said Irma in a no-nonsense tone. This was certainly not the first time she'd had to have such a conversation with the lad; the last being many years ago. "Do you suppose they would have locked the man up without evidence?"

Aidan waved his hand dismissively, surprising himself, even, with how much he had thought about the circumstances of his father's incarceration since the man's escape.  
"The evidence was circumstantial, at best," said Aidan, eyes glinting with challenge. "And he was never actually tried. They just locked him up and threw away the key."

Irma considered the boy's affirmation carefully, going over the evidence the Ministry had gleamed from that night. It wasn't a far leap, she supposed, to think of pompous fools like Barty Crouch and Rufus Scrimgeour treating a suspect unjustly, in an effort to further their own standings within the Ministry. Able to appreciate Aidan's maturity and wisdom beyond his years, she knew that the boy would not make such statements unless he truly did believe them. On the strength of his word alone, she was almost willing to support the teen in his suspicions and help the escaped convict receive a trial, if not for one thing – Severus. For Sirius Black to be declared innocent, and thus stake a claim for his children, would deprive Severus of all that had become precious to him. Worst still, to have all three children learn of Black's innocence and actively seek to be with the man would absolutely break the wizard who had otherwise raised them. She could not ever condone that happening.  
"What would you do if he were innocent, child?" she asked quietly.

Aidan froze, a heavy feeling settling in his gut. He knew exactly where the woman before him was coming from, and he was dismayed to find himself torn in response. What if his father were innocent? Where would he and his siblings live? If it simply were a choice between his mother and the former prisoner, Aidan knew which way he'd choose; but in acknowledging the shortcomings of his wife, Severus Snape had raised the three children in her care almost single-handedly. Heck, Aidan even supposed that the only reason Severus had succumbed to the lovesick charms of Annie Black and married the woman was to ensure the wellbeing of the children she neglected to care for. Though none of the three bestowed upon him such a title, he was as much a father as the respective Marauder who had given them life. There was no way either Aidan or his siblings could ever leave the man who had made so many sacrifices to keep them all together.  
"Would their marriage still be legal?" he whispered, blanching slightly. Death or incarceration were the only acceptable terms for marital annulment in the wizarding world. If Sirius Black was neither dead nor guilty of the crime for which he had been imprisoned, then the union between the man's estranged wife and another could not legally be consummated. By default, Annie and the children would have to return to the patriarchal estate of Sirius' choosing, and the man that raised his children would only be granted access at his discretion. Recalling how notorious the pair's animosity towards each other was, Aidan found himself gripped with fear... the fear of losing another father.

Upon seeing the look of confirmation on Irma Pince's face, he shook his head slowly, in denial.  
"No," he whispered forcefully, though the doubt was evident in his tone. "I'd not stand for that!"

"You would choose to stay with Severus?" said Irma deductively, eyes flying open wide in surprise. Due to her precarious position, she had never really been privy to that which went on behind the closed doors of the Potion Master's quarters, but from the covert conversations she'd had with Severus over the years, it had been apparent that the memory of his father held the young man back from fully enamouring himself to another paternal figure.

"It's not a matter of choosing," said Aidan sagely. "Hogwarts is our home. The others don't remember any differently at all, and from what little I do remember, it's not all that great out there. He cannot be relied upon like Severus can."

"Have you expressed this sentiment to Severus?" said Irma quietly, knowing for certain that he had not.

"You of all people should know how Severus feels about such expressions of sentimentality," said Aidan, shaking his head. "It shouldn't need to be said."

"I think he might appreciate hearing it, in the present circumstances," suggested Irma. She crossed over to a nearby shelf and extracted a book too fragile to be summoned. Running a hand over the worn dragon hide cover almost lovingly, she dusted off the embossed leather and held it towards her surrogate grandson. "This book should not even be in the library..."

"_Blood Potions and their Application in the Dark Arts_," read Aidan slowly, his eyes growing wide. He flicked his gaze to a point above the librarian's shoulder, trying to deduce just where in the shelf behind her she had gotten the book – the higher the tome, the more explicit its material. He accepted the ancient volumne with infinite care and looked to the woman in question. "Why are you showing me this?"

Irma Prince looked down upon the boy with a stoic expression, her dark eyes sparkling with unknown emotion.  
"It is time," she said reverently. She gestured towards the book. "You have a choice to make. Turn to page five hundred and twenty four."

Following the woman's instruction, Aidan skimmed the page in question, almost dropping the book in his surprise.  
"There's a potion that can _do that_?" he gaped, referring to the brew that could change a person's DNA.  
He stared thoughtfully down at the page, before checking the front of the book for the name of the author.  
"A Prince wrote this?" he looked up at the librarian in surprise. It wasn't that his stepfather's ancestors writing potion texts was anything new to him, but rather he had been certain he was familiar with all of their titles. "How many other books like this are there?"

"In circulation, or in the ancestral Prince vault?" Irma teased him, her eyes sparkling with mirth. When she saw the boy frown and open his mouth to question her further, she shook her head slowly. "You would not have seen the ancestral vault. Only those with Prince blood would be able to gain access."

"Which I would have if we brewed this potion," said Aidan, thinking aloud. Narrowing his eyes, he looked to the woman in question. "Is that even legal?"

Irma Pince considered how best to answer the boy's question before phrasing her response.  
"A variation of that potion is deployed by the Ministry in cases of child adoptions," she explained. "However, in those instances, the potion does not completely cut off ties with the child's birth family; effectively giving the drinker two sets of parents. The Ministry legislated its use to protect the interests of any natural children an adoptive couple may have after having taking on another child. With blood tests revealing two sets of parents, the adopted child would be able to claim a part share of both family's estates; thus enabling the biological firstborn of an adoptive family to assume their 'rightful' place in the family hierarchy should they ever come to exist."

"So, had Severus adopted us, and then had a child with mother, they would have a greater claim to the Prince estate and my siblings and I would be compensated by our inheritance from the Black line?" said Aidan, his brow furrowed. "I don't see that working too well in cases where the birth family wants nothing to do with the child they gave up."

"Indeed," said Irma with a nod. "Which is why it is very rare for a magical family to give up a child – and likewise for adoptive families to try for biological children."  
She shook her head.  
"It would be, for instance, practical in your case to be adopted in the Ministry manner," she said. "Were Severus to ever want to formalise his position as your guardian without compromising your rather sizeable endowment from the Black and Potter line..."

"The Potter line?" said Aidan in surprise.

"Well of course, young Harry is the sole heir so far as bloodlines go," said Irma dismissively. "But just as your father was Harry's godfather, James and Lily's were yours and it is my understanding that they each made provisions for you both. I am sure it will be explained to you more fully once you come of age..."

"Oh," said Aidan, nodding in slight understanding. He did know that his godparents had left him with a small trust account, but he'd never really thought of it as having made him an actual heir to the Potter line. Returning his attention to the heavy book Madame Pince had placed in his hands, he tried to make the correlation. "So why are you showing me this potion? If the other one is used, this one can't be legal, right?"

"It is legal, but only just," said Irma with much difficulty. "It requires informed consent from not only the prospective adoptive parent and at least one of the biological parents, but also – and this is most important – the child being adopted themselves."

"Which isn't particularly practical in the case of an infant being adopted," said Aidan with a frown. "I'm afraid I am not quite understanding how it could be legal..."

Sighing, Irma Pince rubbed the bridge of her nose and sank down onto the window sill beside the boy's chair.  
"Generally, this potion is only ever implemented when a child wishes to have someone else as their parents," she said softly, looking at Aidan pointedly. "Though it has been known to be used illegally to completely sever blood ties with an unwanted child... many families using it to exile Squibs, for instance..."  
She paused to consider her next words.  
"Were you to have Severus adopt you with this potion, no spell would ever reveal Sirius Black to be your father ever again," she said slowly. "You will only have two parents, and your appearance would change to reflect this. Biologically, you will have become Severus' firstborn son – as assuredly as he had played a role in your conception. You will lose all birthrights to the Black family legacy and thusly Sirius could never legally claim you, an innocent man or no."

Aidan stared into space pensively.  
"My mother..." he whispered in a small voice. He looked over at the woman beside him. "All she ever wanted was for me to be Severus' son. Even before my godparents died and my father went to prison. Why am I only hearing of this potion now? Mother might have cared for us if we shared his blood..."

The librarian looked grim, her eyes distant with the memories of many conversation she'd had with Severus over the years.  
"Oh believe me, your mother was rather persistent," she said. "Severus was fool enough to mention the potion to her whilst she was pregnant with little Ailith – I don't think he had given much serious thought to becoming a father, but he would have done it quite willingly if it had made your mother a better parent to you all."  
The woman stared out the window listlessly, the dreary light outside catching the lines of her face, really showing her age.  
"I am not sure where she stood with you and Harry, but your mother had wanted to administer this potion to Ailith the moment she was born," she gave her riveted audience a knowing look. "Now we both know how amenable Severus can be when it comes to breaking the odd law, but he did not wish to steal another man's child-"

"Not even when that man was his most sworn enemy?" said Aidan in disbelief. "Not that I am saying he should have done it, but I don't see why he didn't hesitate to do it. Severus is, after all, the only father Ailith's ever had!"

Heartened by the boy's fierce statement, Irma smiled warmly and inclined her head.  
"Alas, I strongly suspect it had more to do with his unwillingness to deprive a devoted little boy of a full-blooded sister," she said leadingly, giving Aidan a sidelong look. "That and I duly suspect Severus has developed somewhat of an inferiority complex about the status of his blood."

"He didn't want to introduce his Muggle heritage into our bloodline?" said Aidan with a frown, still mulling over the revelation that it had been he who had unwittingly prevented Severus from adopting at least Ailith and making his mother somewhat content. "That doesn't seem right... he's always raised us to believe there is no distinction... and even if Ailith had become my half-sister, she would still have been my sister in as much as the same way as Harry will always be my brother!"

"Well in light of how your mother took his refusal to break the law, I suspect he may have some regrets," said Irma sadly, referring to Annie's attempt to murder her unborn child; resulting in Ailith's premature birth and life-long health issues. "Ailith's illness has always weighed heavily on your step-father, but I do know he has not regretted leaving you children with a choice."

"He... they... you mean this potion was always going to come up?" said Aidan in surprise.

"When Severus felt you were old enough to understand the gravity of such a decision, I believe he was going to bring this up, yes," confided Irma. "It would make no difference to how he feels about you either way, but your step-father would not be human if he did not yearn for the children in his care to be a part of him. That is why I suspect he has always been more open with little Ailith, for she more strongly resembles the woman he married, as opposed to the childhood foes who despised him. But don't get me wrong, he still sees you as his son – I think at first he'd never thought it possible for him to look upon you and Harry and not see Sirius and James, but then after having raised you – and then being without you – it really changed his perspective."

Blinking away the tears that had begun to form in his eyes, Aidan stared at the wise librarian and nodded slowly in understanding. He didn't quite know how he felt about completely severing ties with the father who had very likely been taken from him wrongly, but there was no denying Severus' role in his life. The man was as much his father, and he knew now that he could not give the man up without a fight. If sharing blood with the wizard would ensure his stepfather legal custody of them in light of Sirius' innocence, then it was a small price to pay for stability. Sirius Black would always remain the man who gave life to he and his sister, but there was no undoing the past twelve years. If the escaped convict was found to be innocent, and later declared sane after so many years in imprisonment, then by all means Aidan wasn't completely closed to the idea of getting to know the man; but he could no longer be his father. Severus had 12 years to his father's four, and neither his godbrother or sister had any memory of the man whatsoever. To risk _them_ being taken away from the only family they knew... Aidan could not let it happen.  
"I think I know what I need to do," he said finally, giving Irma Pince a determined look. He stood, the book cradled in his arms. "Do you mind if I take this book? I need to discuss this with Harry and Ailee – if we do something about this threat, we will do it together."

Overjoyed, Irma Pince nodded.  
"Keep the book," she said warmly. "Blood ties or no, you are a Prince."

Smiling gratefully at the woman's veiled acceptance of whatever he did decide, Aidan reached out and squeezed the woman's arm with his free hand and made his way down the aisle. Halting in his step, he looked back over his shoulder and shot the secretive librarian a coy smirk.  
"Don't tell Severus we had this conversation," he said. It went without saying that he did not wish to hurt Severus' feelings – which they would invariably do if he and his siblings decided against the potion. Looking at it more optimistically, however, he raised a brow at the woman. "Would make a nice surprise for him, wouldn't you say? Would you be able to assist us with the brew if we decided to do it?"

"It would be an honour," said Irma warmly, taken by just how much the young man before her had taken after his step-father without even the genetic predisposition.

**END CHAPTER**

**End Note: **Irma Pince… totally buying into the rumours that abounded a few years ago wherein the name of the Hogwarts Librarian was an anagram for 'I'm a Prince'. So she's a Prince... but who and how? Updates _should_ be more frequent now I am off uni, but given the imposition of operation home makeover I may find my free time otherwise monopolised... yes, real life does suck, but if I want to sublet my spare rooms in the new year to earn a bit of extra cash to pay for said house I must get it into habitable shape. Gah (that was my bank account protesting)


	7. And the Rat Jumped Over the Moon

**Disclaimer:** If it belonged to me, I would have an A/C that was half-way decent, for all it costs to operate... and I wouldn't be choosing to live in Australia in such a stinking hot climate...

**A/N: **New Year's resolution #2: I will become more motivated! I have been off work for a few weeks and have next to nothing to show for it... sure, the hecticness of the holiday season may play its part, and the fact I had a wedding to attend, but really? I could have achieved so much more in recent weeks... grrrrr. Time Turner, anyone??

**Last time… **(adopts dramatic baritone in the manner of all-important ADR Narrator) _**The staff of Hogwarts convene in reaction to Ailith's disappearance. Aidan flees Severus' questions in the infirmary, finding solace in the Library and confiding in the school's librarian; a woman who is in some fashion connected to his assumed family...**_

**Updated: Thursday 31 December 2009: Have a Happy New Year everyone! Here's to a new year, and new decade, full of goals being reached and dreams coming true... onward march!**

**Chapter VII: And the Rat Jumped Over the Moon**

When Aidan returned to the infirmary, hoping to find his siblings alone, he had found Severus still in discussion with the pair. Not wanting to confront the man until he had sorted out a few things, he transformed into his Animagus form and slithered along the wall of the room, cutting a path towards Poppy's office that was blanketed in shadow. Once inside, he retrieved his and Harry's brooms – it would not do for Severus to find them out of the dungeon and realise the infallibility of their bedroom window – and flew out the way he'd earlier flown in. Promptly landing at a small entranceway closest to the Slytherin dungeons, Aidan quickly made his way towards the family's quarters. Perhaps, with Severus safely accounted for on the other side of the school, he could make use of the time alone to go through the man's office in search of an address for the Weasleys; make a start on investigating his father's claims about the youngest red-headed boy's pet rat.

Thankful that his step-father's locking charms on the entrance was so certain people could not _exit_ that way, without escort or Animagus form, but still be able to _enter –_ an effective entrapment charm if those to be contained were not capable of the transformation – Aidan returned to his family's quarters. Depositing the broomsticks on the small rack behind the door of the bedroom he shared with his brother, Aidan transformed again and slid into his stepfather's study; the secret Animagus wary not to disturb his mother's parlour on the off-chance she had returned or set off any alarms that his step-father may have erected to detect uninvited _human_ intruders. Promptly rifling through his stepfather's desk for any paperwork with the official Hogwarts Seal, he struck gold when he found a contact list of Head Boy candidates. Making note of the address, and then taking care to ensure everything in Severus' private office returned to its original state, Aidan retreated to his bedroom; intent on making himself look presentable whilst concocting a cover story in his mind. Thinking specifically of his brother's reputation with Potions – or rather his unorthodox application of them outside of class – and the rather notorious animosity between the younger 'Prince' and the school's resident 'pauper' Aidan could not help but smirk at the plausibility of his plan.

Having returned to his human form the moment he was safe in his bedroom once more, Aidan slicked back his hair and cast a Notice-Me-Not Charm over his scar. Then, pulling on a pair of smart – but unpretentious – casual robes, he regarded his reflection in the mirror. With his scar all but gone, and his conservative choice of 'sensible' clothes, he truly exuded an air of intellect and innocence, of which any mother would aspire to have a son possess. Knowing his appearance would not be affected by his Animagus transformation, Aidan became Adder a final time and left the family quarters; enjoying the coolness of the smooth stone beneath his scales as he opted to slither his way out of the castle, and across the grounds. Once he had reached the edge of the Forbidden Forest, he rounded a tree and shifted back into his human form; only to fall into a defensive stance when a voice caught him unaware.

"That's some trick," said Remus Lupin, emerging from the shadows with a basket hooked under one arm and his wand drawn with the other. His amber eyes twinkled warmly with mirth as he took in the boy's surprised state. "Of course, I'd expect nothing less from a boy with your lineage."

Narrowing his eyes contemptuously at his father's former friend, Aidan frowned.  
"Think what you like," he said, sneering slightly as he brushed off imaginary dirt from his robes and straightened his shoulders; intent on continuing his path without further interference.

Upon seeing that the boy was about to head deeper into the forest, alone, Remus turned on his heel and followed the teen.  
"I'm pretty certain students are not allowed in the Forbidden Forest," he said conversationally. "At least not without _teacher_ supervision."

"Well shows how much _you_ know," sneered Aidan, pausing to glare at the meddling werewolf. "I am not considered a student during the summer, and thus need only abide by the rules my parents have set for me. I do not require _teacher supervision_; let alone from a man who is yet to _teach_ me anything."

At Aidan's pointed use of plural in reference to the couple who had raised him, Remus tilted his head and inhaled sharply; his head still struggling to come to grips with Dumbledore's revelation that Severus Snape had been raising the sons of his two childhood enemies.  
"I seem to recall teaching you how to growl at Padfoot," said Remus lightly, though there was a barely hidden pain to his words as he recalled the makeshift family he had lost.

"Well let me correct myself, then," said Aidan snidely. "I do not need supervision from a _teacher_ who has yet to teach me something _worth remembering_!"

Remus reeled back, as though stung. Though whether the boy's harsh tone was because he simply did not remember, or did not _want_ to remember, he remained unsure. On the thought of the single event that tore both their worlds apart, the aged Marauder was reminded of current events.  
"Whatever you're normally permitted to do on Hogwarts grounds during summer, I strongly suspect that in light of _recent events_ your _parents_ would not appreciate you wandering about dark forests on your own," he said, trying to deduce an explanation from the boy.

"But I am not on my own, Lupin," said Aidan mockingly. "I have my very own basket-wielding _luna_tic. Just what are you doing butchering the undergrowth for, anyway? That's no way to harvest potion ingredients..."

Eying the growing collection of roots and flowers he had spent the afternoon scavenging the forest floor for, Remus rolled his eyes good-naturedly.  
"This? Oh I hardly have any aptitude for Potions," he said laughingly. "I am simply collecting fodder for my new Grindylow."

Peering disinterestedly into the man's basket, Aidan leered triumphantly when he spotted another flaw with the man's haul.  
"You do realise you would in fact be poisoning the wretched thing with that particular wildflower."

Following Aidan's analytical gaze, Remus frowned at the translucent white stems.  
"Oh, I thought they were dandelions!" he said, quickly pulling out the offending cuttings and inspecting them thoroughly before throwing them aside in dismay. "Thank you for pointing that out! I would not have made a very good impression my first day of classes had I a sick Grindylow in the corner of the classroom!"

Having not intended to draw the werewolf's gratitude, Aidan shifted testily and quickened his pace. Calling over his shoulder, he tried to shake the man's interest.  
"Yes, well just be sure to consult with the groundskeeper before you go feeding your pets unsolicited food," he said. "He may appear to be a bit like a fumbling oaf at times, but Hagrid's been taking care of magical creatures longer than you've _been one_."

"I'll take that under advisement," said Remus curtly, not missing the veiled insult; reminded from the teenager's calculating tone just who had raised the boy. His mediating good manners shining through nevertheless, the werewolf smiled disarmingly and inclined his head in farewell. "I look forward to teaching you, _Mr Black_."

Scowling at the former Marauder's brazen use of his real name, Aidan chose not to react, in favour of putting as much distance between himself and the interfering Defence professor as possible. He had considered, ever so fleetingly, to Obliviate their encounter from the wizard's mind – he could not believe he had allowed himself to transform in full view of the hiding werewolf – but suspected that Dumbledore would not have hired the man if he did not have an aptitude for Defence. No, it was better to observe the man at work and not instigate such an attack until he was certain of the man's strengths.

Watching him go, Remus did not realise he was following the teen until he recognised a clearing he and his friends had once retreated to every full moon. They were almost a mile from the school, now, surrounded by trees, and if Remus had thought he had trailed the boy without detection, he was quickly proven otherwise.  
"Well you may as well _come_ now," said Aidan in exasperation, not bothering to look behind him at the wizard who had followed at a discreet distance. He stuck two fingers in his mouth and whistled shrilly, his practiced call summoning his favourite Thestral.

As the majestic magical beast landed before him with silent grace, Aidan cast his eyes in Lupin's direction, covertly trying to gauge from the man's reaction whether or not he was a stranger to death. Spying the recognition – and surprise – in the slight man's eyes, he nodded in acceptance and reached out to pet the scaly mane of the selectively invisible animal.  
"Whoa there Grimmer, ready to go for a ride?" he whispered in the creature's ear, relishing how the powerful animal relaxed and leaned into his ministrations. Sensing Lupin's hesitation, he laughed at the irony – considering how feared both werewolves and Thestrals were it was rather funny to see the afflicted half-breed hesitate – and gestured the man over. "Come on, Lupin! Unlike _some_ Dark Creatures, this one won't bite!"

Growling softly at the boy's bluntness, but just as unwilling to be outdone by the daring sixteen year old as he had once stood to the challenges set forth by the teen's father, Remus Lupin plucked up his Gryffindor courage and approached.  
"Set aside that ridiculous basket of weeds," leered Aidan, rolling his eyes at the threadbare wizard's frugal attempt to feed his pet Grindylow. "Between Hagrid's stores and the compost from the Potions class your precious Grindy won't go hungry!"

Caught out in his foolishness – of course Hogwarts would be able to provide feed for his class pet – Remus sheepishly banished his basket and wiped his hands on the lapels of his robes. Taking a deep breath, he reached out and stroked the plume of the mythological beast; the memory of his mother's death that usually came from the sight of a Thestral driven away by the realisation of what death the boy before him had to of witnessed.  
"Do you remember?" he blurted, before he could help himself; a long-buried pain returning to his eyes.

His own eyes betraying his surprise – in all his indignation for being singled out as his father's son, he had forgotten that Remus Lupin was good friends with James and Lily – Aidan looked at the weary looking werewolf with renewed understanding and nodded slowly.  
"I'll never forget it," he said hauntingly. It wasn't very often he spoke of that night aloud; how much it still affected him revealed in his shaky voice. Remembering that which he had set out to investigate, he cocked a head at the man in consideration. "What would you do if I told you Wormtail was there that night?"

"Everyone already knows that Peter lured..." said Remus, becoming increasingly frustrated at the thought of alluding to Sirius' crimes in front of the son he could only remember idolising his father.

Aidan cut him off with a dismissive wave of his hand, pausing only to haul himself up onto the back of the patiently waiting Thestral.  
"All right," he said, settling on the winged beast's back and looking down at the perplexed werewolf. "What if I were to tell you that Pettigrew faked his death that night, by cutting off his own finger and transforming into his rat form?"

"I'd say that was a pretty far-fetched theory and ask to see some proof," said Remus slowly, his head beginning to reel with the possibilities.

Smirking secretively, Aidan made up his mind.  
"Well hop on, then," he said, shifting forward to allow the man to climb up behind him. "I consider myself as in the dark as the next person, but will not completely discount the theory until I have followed the tip I was given."

Torn between encouraging the boy to forward his information to the appropriate sources, and indulging his own piqued curiosity, Remus swung a leg over the dark animal and secured himself for flight.  
"All right, so where are we going?" he asked, having settled on accompanying the boy to best ensure the lad did not get himself into strife.

"A wizarding home just outside of Ottery St Catchpole," said Aidan, serving the double purpose of instructing the clever Thestral where to go. "A home called The Burrow, belonging to the Weasley family. Are you familiar with their line?"

"Vaguely..." said Remus, remembering a family of redheads being involved in the first war. "Need I ask why?"

"I will fill you in on the way," said Aidan, inwardly questioning just why he was bringing his father's former friend along at all. Tightening his hold on the Thestral's neck, he warned the werewolf before bidding the beast to take off. "Hold on!"

* * *

"He owes us," said Harry darkly, once Severus had left to go brew 'an infernal wolf some potion'. He and Ailith had been grilled on the day's events for well over an hour, and neither student had missed their brother's discreet re-entry.

"_I _can't believe we're the only ones that know about Adder!" scoffed Ailith, falling back against her pillows in disbelief. Madame Pomfrey had instructed her to remain in the ward overnight, and though she had seen more than her fair share of the infirmary, she'd come to regard it something of a second bedroom; particularly when she was the only patient and the resident nurse would allow her family to come and go as they pleased.

"Well you know we'd never be able to sneak stuff from Severus' office if he knew to ward against Animagus entry," said Harry, comfortable in their current topic of discussion since the Impenetrable Charm Severus had erected earlier was still active. His eyes falling in the direction he had seen his brother's snake form travel, he frowned in consideration. "I wonder what Aidan was doing... he hasn't come out, so it's fair to say he flew off somewhere..."

"Probably just wanted to return the brooms downstairs before Sev'rus had a chance to notice them missing," said Ailith with a shrug.

Harry nodded distractedly.  
"That's what I thought... but then you'd think he'd have dumped them by now and come back here," he said slowly, a trace of worry leaking into his tone. As a rule, none of the Prince children cared to be alone in the family quarters with only their 'mother' in the next room. It wasn't that they feared the woman as such – Severus had taken certain precautions after she'd sent her biological children away, and they were now old enough to order around a crazed House Elf – but it was a predicament they all generally tried to avoid.

"You don't think he's planned to have it out with her, while we were all distracted, do you?" said Ailith in a small voice, her mind going over the trap their mother had set up by giving Sirius Black that pair of Portkeys.

A dark look passed over Harry's face.  
"He'd better not have," he said quietly. "I've a few things I won't mind saying myself – Severus too no doubt."

"Do you think he's okay?" said Ailith, asking more than just if her brother was all right in their mother's company. "Why do you think he took so long coming back from the cave?"

Harry paused to consider his little sister's question. No stranger to the grief his brother had experienced in the years after they'd first come to live at Hogwarts, and mindful of the way Aidan had left the vault key for the estranged prisoner to collect, he did not think he was wrong to suspect that his godbrother still had feelings for the man who sired him. Telling the young girl as such, he braced himself for her confusion.  
"But I don't understand," she said predictably. "We hate Sirius Black, right? I mean, he betrayed your parents and abandoned me 'n Aidy... well just him really 'cause he never knew about me before..."

"I suppose you don't remember," said Harry distantly, his eyes glazed over with an almost forgotten memory. Explaining patiently to his godsister, he tried to make sense of Aidan's unexplained delay himself. "For the longest time, Aidan believed Black to be innocent. He'd seen the wizard Sirius Black later killed in my bedroom shortly after the attack and believed that _he_ had to be the bad guy, because he took the Dark Lord's wand and left us there... Aidan and I, that is..."

"So maybe my father got arrested for going after the bad man and accidentally killing those Muggles at the same time?" said Ailith, her eyes wide.

Harry shook his head, taking a moment to remind himself that, at just 11 years of age and fiercely protected by two older brothers, Ailith was a little too innocent at times.  
"No, the Ministry decided that Pettigrew had taken the wand to draw Black away from me 'n Aidy, and died a hero," he said dismissively, having been too young at the time to base any opinion of events on his personal relationship with the people involved. "Whatever the case, Aidan refused to believe wrong of his father, and cried for him nearly every night – at least as far back as I can remember."  
He sighed sadly and leaned in close, carrying on in a whisper even though there was no possible way for his next words to be overheard.  
"He doesn't know I know this, but he still keeps all the pictures and letters he'd 'written' your father, when he was little and didn't know better," he said forlornly. "Every year on our birthdays and then at Christmas he'd beg to go visit Azkaban... but then suddenly, one year he just _stopped..._ you would have been about two, I think..."

"You can't possibly remember back when I was two!" said Ailith indignantly. "_I _can't remember that long ago!"

Rolling his eyes, Harry admitted that his memories of being a three and four year old were shaky at best, but maintained that their brothers' tantrums were too legendary to forget.  
"But Aidan doesn't pitch fits!" said Ailith, confused.

"He did... long ago," said Harry, frowning as he pondered the unanswered question as to how and when his brother had become the picture of impenetrable calm that they were much more familiar with today. "I guess you could say _you_ tamed him. Soon as you started talking, I remember he'd drop everything just to listen to you babble."

Sharing the wistful smile that came over the young girl's face at the mention of her brother's love, Harry silently reflected on his earliest memories. Aidan had, indeed, given up his pursuit of 'justice' for his father when Ailith had started to talk, and suddenly the reason behind it became so strikingly clear: Ailith, knowing no different, had started to call Severus 'Papa'. He remembered that he had been the one to give toddling Ailith the word, looking upon Severus as something of a father as memories of his own parents faded to nothing. Aidan, at first, had been fiercely determined to reinforce his memories of James and Lily Potter, reminding him rather abrasively that 'he already had a father'. When Ailith had started to call Severus 'Papa' and Aidan did nothing to correct her, Harry had been rather astute in telling his godbrother that Severus was _nobody's_ father, and so if Ailith could call him 'Papa' then he could too. They had been all set to becoming a fully-functional family unit until that dratted House Elf turned up and whisked Aidan and Ailith away; things just hadn't been the same after that.

"What you thinkin'?" asked Ailith, stirring Harry from his thoughts. "You got that 'not-another-History-of-Magic-class' look on your face..."

Shaking his head, Harry reached out and patted his godsister on the shoulder reassuringly.  
"Just thinking of the past," he said, troubled.

_'What if Aidan had a reason to believe in Sirius for that long?'_ he wondered to himself. '_What if he never really changed his mind?'_

"I've got to go!" he blurted, standing up suddenly and looking panicked. "I've a bad feeling Aidan's about to do something really stupid..."

Watching as her godbrother bolted from the hospital wing without further explanation, Ailith could only hope that the boy was wrong. If Aidan was up to no good, he had nearly an hour's head start, and if her unfortunate encounter in Diagon Alley was anything to go by, a lot could happen in an hour.

Having made opportunity of the journey to inform Lupin of his plan, Aidan and his unscheduled passenger set down in a field behind the Burrow and got their stories straight.  
"Right, so who are you?" said Aidan, testing the man.

"Professor Remus Lupin, newly employed Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher," recited Remus, telling the truth.

"And why have you brought me here?" Aidan quizzed, pausing to send the Thestral back to Hogwarts – they would be Side-Apparating to Hogsmeade on the return journey.

"Having just arrived at the school to get a start on my lesson plans, you sought my help to rectify a prank your brother pulled on the pets of some of his classmates," said Remus, recalling by rote.

"And why did I go to you, a relative unknown?" said Aidan leadingly.

"Because any of the other teachers would have told your stepfather and you don't want to lose your Quidditch partner," said Remus, his eyes twinkling; the boy's manipulations reminding him distinctly of long lost childhood friends.

"Excellent," Aidan praised. "I think I can work with that."

"After you," said Remus politely, eager to see the next-generation Marauder at work.  
_'James would be proud...'_ he said to himself, thinking back to how James Potter had regarded his 'favourite' (and only) godson. He tried not to think of what Sirius might think... even twelve years after the betrayal he still couldn't work out what that man was thinking when he turned his back on both friends and family.

Ten minutes later saw the unassuming school teacher and student pair standing in the stuffy heat of Molly Weasley's kitchen. The woman had bought Aidan's story hook, line and sinker; shaking her head in dismay at how conversely different two siblings could be.  
"Oh dear, oh dear," she said, clasping a hand to her bossom. "Little Scabbers has been ill all summer... the Rat Tonic has done nothing... my Ronald has been beside himself!"

Slipping into the role of a sensible, do-good older brother, Aidan let out an insufferable sigh, inwardly unable to believe his luck that the rodent in question had been exhibiting symptoms at all.  
"On behalf of my brother, I just want to apologise again for the distress," he said politely, laying it on thick. He reached into the pockets of his robes for a small coin purse. "I really must insist on reimbursing you for the Rat Tonic."

"Oh no, it was a trifle, really," said Molly Weasley, turning away the charitable retribution in favour of accepting the 'antidote' Aidan had brewed to remedy his brother's malicious prank. Looking pointedly at the vial Aidan had placed on the kitchen table – the woman oblivious to the fact that it was only Pumpkin Juice – she nodded decisively. "Yes, yes, thank you for bringing this to our attention. I'll have Ronald fetch the poor thing... RONALD!"

At the Weasley matriarch's call, two identical redheads emerged from the living room, eager to see what their youngest brother had landed himself into this time. When they spotted a strange man standing with a Slytherin who was one year ahead of them, they were immediately on the offensive.  
"PRINCE!" bellowed George. "What do you think you're doing here?"  
"-And who's your friend?" added Fred distrustingly. He looked to his mother in reproach. "Do you have any idea who you've just let into _our_ home?"

Molly Weasley flushed red and set her mouth into a hard line, looking utterly humiliated at her sons' rudeness.  
"Boys!" she screeched in shock. "Apologise to _our guests_ at once! Mr Prince is here to _help_ poor Scabbers! He found out his younger brother had doctored the food of some of your classmate's pets and came out with _Professor Lupin_ to make amends!"

"Professor Lupin?" said George in disbelief, eying the tattered robes of the sandy-haired man with a sceptical eye.  
"We don't have any professor named Lupin," said Fred, with equal decisiveness. "How do we know you're not ickle Baby Prince in disguise?"  
"Yeah! Snape's your _stepfather_ – condolences – Polyjuice'd be easy for you lot, we reckon," said George, speaking on behalf of his brother, who was nodding along enthusiastically.

Their mother turned an unappealing shade of magenta and seemed to shrink back in embarrassment, her eyes looking almost fearful as she sought out Remus' reaction. To her utmost surprise, however, the undercover Marauder laughed.  
"I think I owe you boys an apology," said Remus mirthfully. "I heard the stories from the other teachers, but didn't think it was possible... I can assure you I am indeed a teacher... Defence Against the Dark Arts, if you must know..."

Twin sets of eyes went wide as saucers as they realised the teacher before them was real.  
"Oh, sorry there mate, I mean, Professor, Sir!" said Fred.  
"You won't take offence, will you? What happens outside of Hogwarts and all..." added George, sidling up to the good-humoured Defence professor.

Remus feigned ignorance, airily pretending the past few minutes had not occurred; his dramatics interrupted by the abrupt arrival of a very out-of-breath Ronald Weasley.  
"Sorry Mum! It wasn't me, I swear!" said Ron without preamble, looking peculiarly guilty about something. "Whatever Ginny said, it's not true!"

The experienced mother needn't say anything to correct her youngest son, the expression on the boy's face as he noticed their guests and realised he had been called for another reason saying it all.  
"Oh..." said Ron, looking sheepish.

"Yes, _'oh_'," said Molly, her hands on her hips. Thankful that the esteemed Hogwarts professor had not taken offence at the behaviour of her children, she found comfort in the familiarity of catching one of her children out. "Ronald, Professor Lupin is here to help your rat-"

"Prince! What are _you_ doing here?" said Ron without thinking, having recognised the dark-haired teenager and reacting on instinct.

His eyes becoming impossibly wide, Aidan looked to the gullible woman innocently.  
"Honestly, Mrs Weasley, I do not know what I have done to earn such a reception," he said, sounding pained. "I'm afraid I've never even been formally introduced to any of your sons..."

"Oh beg my pardon! Where _are_ my manners!" said Mrs Weasley, aghast. Promptly lining the three present Weasley boys in a line, she introduced them; smiling grimly as her sons showed reluctance to shaking the hand of the polite older boy. Looking at her, even Aidan could tell that the Weasley boys would be in for a stern talking to when the family was next alone, and he had to fight to hide his smirk. Talk about a silver lining.

"Thank you, Mrs Weasley," said Aidan, almost simpering now. "But it really was not necessary; I already knew who they were... Ron_ald_, may I enquire about your rat?"

"My rat? What do you want with Scabbers?" said Ron defensively, suspicious of just what the notorious stepson of his most hated professor was doing here, asking about his pet. Looking to his mother for a shred of support, he whined. "Mu-um! You do realise he's a _Slytherin_!"

"I'm sorry, is that supposed to make me evil?" said Aidan in a warning tone. "Last time I checked, that escaped prisoner was a Gryffindor."

"Sirius Black? A Gryffindor?" spluttered one of the twins. "Are you for real?"

"Mum, is that true?"

Mrs Weasley looked helpless, her heart stricken at the reminder of an escaped prisoner being a possible threat to her children. She was unable to answer their questions, and, seeing this, Remus stepped in.  
"Yes, it is true," said Remus gravely, all candour lost in his voice. "Sirius Black was indeed a Gryffindor."

The three proud Gryffindor red-heads exchanged looks of disbelief and averted Aidan's gaze. Years of allocating all evil to the house of Slytherin could not be undone in an instant. Compelled enough by the young Slytherin's revelation and apparent honesty, Ron extracted his rat from a pocket and held it out as some sort of unspoken peace offering.  
"This is him," he said, shifting his weight from foot to foot nervously. "He doesn't look like much, but then he's sick right now..."

"You don't say," drawled Aidan, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. His wand hand twitching within reach of the place he holstered his wand, he held out the other hand in expectation. "May I?"

As Ron relinquished his grip on the lethargic looking rat, Aidan stealthily drew his wand, assuring those that saw the movement that he was going to cast a diagnostic charm to confirm the cause of the rodent's sickness. Spying the scabbed stump on one of the intrepid creature's paws, his eyes hardened. At the same moment, werewolf and rat set eyes upon each other for the first time in over a decade; the disguised wizard realising all too late that his game was up.  
"Hello, Wormtail," said Aidan grimly, tightening his hold around the rat's torso as the rodent tried to break free.

Only Remus heard the startled gasp of the two Weasley twins; Aidan's mind now reeling with the sudden realisation that his father had been telling him the truth and the boy who had been unwittingly harboring a supposed dead man voicing his confusion.  
"He's not a Wormtail, he's Scabbers!" said Ron, correcting Aidan as though the older boy were simple.

"Wormtail..." said one of the twins, a little louder this time. A look of recognition was passed between the two and, without a further word being spoken, one of them left to go fetch something.

"That crazy theory still sounding far-fetched to you, Lupin?" said Aidan harshly, though he were really admonishing himself for having given up on his father all those years ago.

"No... no it doesn't" said Remus, looking a little shell-shocked. Recovering his resolve, he quickly drew his wand; his gaze turning almost predatory as golden eyes glared at the rat who, it seems, had truly lived up to its Animagus form. Thinking, then, of how he had never given Sirius' guilt a second thought, he shook his head guiltily and berated himself. "I should have known... he would have _never _betrayed James..."

The other occupants of the room realising that all was not as it seemed, it was Mrs Weasley who demmanded an explanation.  
"What is going on, here?" she said warily, inwardly thinking that perhaps her son's had been right about this strange boy's dubious intentions. As mother of two pranksters, she was no stranger to being manipulated and yet it went against her nature to suspect the worst of people.

"I do apologise for my deceit, madam," said Aidan sincerely. "But I did not wish to alarm you if my information was false."

"This rat is an Animagus," said Remus darkly, looking decidedly ill all of a sudden. "By the name of Peter Pettigrew."

Eyes lighting up in recognition, Molly Weasley was quick to rebuke the pair's claims.  
"Peter... Peter Pettigrew... but isn't he the wizard who..."

"My father was said to have killed?" said Aidan loathingly, looking upon the rat with disgust and sneering maliciously when the rat's renewed attempts at escape were in vain. He glared directly into the eyes of the traitor. "I always knew this day would come... deep down, I always knew you were not the hero they said you were..."

"Wait a minute, what do you mean your father?" said George Weasley, his brow furrowed in thought. "I thought Sirius Black killed this Pettigrew, bloke..."

"...and how can you just come in here and tell that Scabbers is an Animagus, anyway?" added Fred, who had returned to the room in record time.

Actions spoke louder than words and so, with a nod from Lupin, Aidan tossed the reviled rat into the air and directed a spell in its direction. What then hit the floor was not a small rodent, but a dishevelled heap of man; causing Mrs Weasley to scream and the three Weasley boys to reel back in surprise.  
"Hello, Peter," said Remus with deadly calm, swiftly sealing off one exit whilst Aidan kept his wand trained on the ragged wizard; the Weasley twins unwittingly blocking the only other exit.

Pale beady eyes finding Aidan's, Peter Pettigrew looked upon the eldest child of Sirius Black with dawning comprehension.  
"_Aidan_? Is that really you?" he said, his mind rendered almost infantile after years spent as a rat. "Remus! My old friend! Oh, thank goodness, I don't have to hide any more..."

Fed up with the lies, and wanting to know once and for all, Aidan slid his wand up his sleeve and stalked forward; pulling the man upright. Grabbing the wizard's wrist in an unforgiving grip, he yanked up the sleeve of the tattered robe the rat wore to reveal the faint outline of the Dark Mark.  
"I knew it," he said scathingly, shoving away the wrist in his hand with so much force that the man it belonged to stumbled back and fell on his behind with a loud thud. "I _told _them you were up to no good that night! I knew if I had just looked, I would have found the Mark!"  
He hauled the wizard up again and squeezed the offending wrist with so much force the blood was cut off. Leaning in close, he hissed dangerously.  
"You want to know what I am going to do now?" he asked, fire burning in his eyes. Drawing on his rage to wandlessly summon a sharp knife from the kitchen sink, he weilded it in the man's face. "I am going to take pleasure in carving that wretched mark from your flesh and listening to you beg for mercy!"

Emboldened by the false sense of power the mark of his master placed upon him, Peter Pettigrew showed a little Gryffindor backbone.  
"I should have finished what my Master started," he spat, acknowledging that his game was up and he did not have to pretend to be good any more. His face turned almost sinister as he strove to push the boy's buttons. "Your mother would have thanked me for saving her the trouble – you know she never wanted you?"

"You were too gutless," retorted Aidan, regarding the pathetic wizard before him with an ugly sneer.

"You're Aidan Black?" said Mrs Weasley suddenly, having recovered enough from the shock of finding out that the family pet was a disguised Death Eater to draw the appropriate conclusion. "You've been hiding in plain sight all this time?"  
Her eyes grew impossibly wide.  
"Good heavens! Does that... does that mean that your brother Henry is... is..."

"My brother Henry?" said Aidan with a tone of finality. He glared at the woman pointedly before seemingly realising for the first time that he was in physical contact with the man who had destroyed many lives. Disgusted, Aidan let go of the trapped traitor and backed away, wiping his hands on his robes as though trying to decontaminate himself.

"You called him Wormtail," said George dumbly, looking to Fred – or rather, that which his twin now had on his person.

"Wormtail's a person," stated Fred. It was not a question. He was just about to ask if this apparent Wormtail before them had friends named Moony, Padfoot and Prongs when Aidan spotted the parchment the red head had subconsciously removed from his pocket.

With a flick of his wrist, Aidan had his wand in hand and had wordlessly summoned the historical artefact. Handing it to the one man who was quite possibly the brains behind most of its illusive spellwork, he smirked secretively.  
"I think this belongs to you..." he said leadingly, looking forward to dashing the surprise in the other teenagers' eyes with his next words. "As a Hogwarts professor, it is your _solemn_ duty to curb those who are the purveyors of _no good-_"

"How do you know of the map?" George blurted, staring blankly at his empty hand as the map was whisked away from him.

"Oh, it's a map?" said Aidan, feigning innocence. Upon seeing that Pettigrew was using the moment of distraction to try and escape, he placed the wizard in a Body Bind; the sound of his body falling to the ground drawing everyone's attention back to more pressing matters.

"Mrs Weasley, perhaps you should Floo your husband and someone at the Ministry," said Remus tightly, wanting to see Pettigrew in Ministry custody and testifying as to what really happened that night as soon as possible.

* * *

"Where's Severus?" asked Harry, coming to a rigid standstill in the doorway as he entered the family quarters to find his legal guardian sitting in shadows; the light glinting off her omnipresent crystal snifter revealing her presence. When they had moved into Severus' quarters, shortly after Ailith's traumatic birth, Annie had insisted on her own parlour, with her own private entrance. Very rarely did she venture out into the main living room for any measurable length of time, and ever since the woman had ordered Kreacher to take her children away Severus had made certain that none of the children were left alone with the woman.

The smile on Annie's face was cold and calculating.  
"Do I look like his keeper, young Henry?" she asked with mock politeness. She leaned forward into the light and patted the seat next to her. "Come... sit. It has been too long since we had a nice mother-son chat."

Little alarm bells ringing in his head, Harry approached warily and did not sit down. For years, his bona fide Aunt had rebuked his calls for affection at every turn, spitefully hissing at him whenever Severus' back was turned that he was a burden upon the family and they had to hide their true names because of _him_. There certainly wasn't any love lost between the pair, so Harry was ready for whatever the woman had up her sleeve this time.  
"You're not my mother, remember?" he stated flatly. Years ago, he had been devastated by the woman's pointed rejection; but as the years wore on he had long since accepted that it was her loss. Thanks to Aidan, he had the memory of decent parents to cling to and, if anything, he felt rather sorry for the fact that the true parents of his assumed siblings were both so terrible. If they all didn't have Severus in their lives, he didn't want to think of how their lives might have turned out... one year with the Dursleys had been bad enough.

"That's right, I am not," said Annie coolly, dropping her act. When she saw that Harry was close enough for her to truly gauge his reaction, she snapped her fingers; prompting the low-burning fire to spring up and bathe the room in light.

Spotting the arrangement of trunks and a few crates of books that Harry immediately recognised as having come from the room he shared with Aidan, he swallowed audibly and took a step back.  
"Where's Severus?" he asked weakly.

"Nowhere he can help you now," said Annie, shaking her head in mock sadness. "Your godfather has just been pronounced innocent. My husband and I couldn't keep you even if we wanted to."

Harry's mouth was suddenly dry, and he had to reach out and grab the nearest lamp table to keep himself from stumbling back. The room was spinning.  
"And... and the others?" he asked weakly, finding that he was not so much concerned with meeting the man his parents had chosen to raise him – considering the man's apparent innocence – but rather the thought of being separated from the two children he had come to regard as his siblings.

"Oh, I _could_ petition for custody," she said airily. "But what would be the point? Let their father take some of the responsibility for a change... why, Severus and I didn't get so much as a honeymoon with you lot all under foot!"

"Does Severus know of this?" said Harry curtly, no longer taking the woman's poisonous diatribe to heart. He couldn't help being a parentless child any more than some people couldn't help being a _different sort of witch_.

Closing her expression, Annelie pursed her lips into a thin line.  
"Of course," she sneered. "Do you truly suppose he would give you three up without a fight? That he would give Black the satisfaction?"  
The woman stood, and smiled slightly when she saw Harry take a wary step back. Ignoring him, she took her glass towards the cabinet where her husband kept his personal supply of Fire Whiskey and refilled her glass.  
"Merlin knows why he actually _wants_ the burden," she muttered, gesturing widely with the dark bottle in her hand. Her glass soon full, she replaced the bottle in its rack and turned to face Harry once more. "He was so resolved against getting close to any of you when we all first arrived..."  
She stalked forward, unsteady on her feet.  
"...but somehow you all managed to worm your way into his cool Slytherin heart," she stabbed her finger at the insufferable boy and leered. "Crawling in to a place _I_ can't even penetrate... without even _trying_..."  
Pausing to take a swig from her glass, she pulled a face as the amber fluid burned on the way down and flung the crystal across the room; aiming for the wall. She watched on in satisfaction as Harry flinched and raised his hands as though to fend off a physical strike.  
"You don't know how _lucky_ you are! Any of you!" she spat, backing away and shaking her head in disgust. "He does _everything_ for you! Yet you all punish him still for what _I _did! Why don't you call him '_Papa_' anymore? Why?"

Harry was at a loss for words. It was clear that his aunt was drunk, and he had very little experience in dealing with the woman when she was sober, let alone when she was acting so unpredictable. If he didn't know any better, he'd almost think the woman was anguished over Severus' loyalty to them, and he didn't know what to make of her accusations.  
"I... I don't know," he stammered awkwardly. "That's just the way things are I guess... he's never asked..."

"Of course he's never _asked_! He never will!" cried Annie wildly, advancing upon Harry again. She swung her hand wide and gestured to the door. "Get out of my sight! You're an ungrateful, obnoxious little boy; now get out of here before I do something I regret. I will have an elf send along your things. I daresay your godfather will head straight to the infirmary."

"The hospital wing?" said Harry with a start. His eyes darted towards the door on instinct. "But who is going to tell Ailith? Where is Aidan?"

Annie gestured ambiguously, giving the air of someone who seemed to know more but was not willing to share the details. Nonchalantly, she checked her watch and sighed dramatically.  
"Oh, I could waste my time explaining things to you, but then there's just no telling what such a surprise might do to my daughter's health..."

Upon hearing the leading tone in the manipulative woman's voice, Harry was out the door before she could even finish. Even if there wasn't Ailith's health to consider, he wouldn't wish such an impending shock upon anyone. His feet pounding on the unforgiving stone beneath him, the wiry teen took advantage of every known passageway and shortcut he and his brother had discovered in their childhood meanderings. As he rushed to reach his sister in time, only two things were going through his mind:  
_'How on earth did Black become innocent so suddenly?_' and '_Where was Aidan_?'

Knowing his brother as he liked to think he did, Harry had a feeling his two questions were correlated.

* * *

When Ailith awoke to find a man she didn't quite recognise sitting at her bedside, she was immediately on alert. Eyes wide, she struggled to pull herself up into a sitting position; her mind working frantically to place the oddly familiar looking man whilst simultaneously considering avenues of escape, should the need arise. At the sudden movement, startled grey eyes sought out pale green; the dark haired man they belonged to stiffening with tense anticipation and looking at her as though she was about to take flight.  
"Ailith, isn't it?" he croaked, pausing suddenly as he took in her confusion and struggled to find the best way to introduce himself properly. Running a hand through his hair – which had been scrubbed with an aptly-placed Charm and roughly hewn around his ears since his exoneration barely an hour before – Sirius looked at his daughter nervously; hoping beyond hope that he didn't look as out of his depth as he felt. "You... you may not remember me... at least... at least I hope you don't... we didn't get off on the right foot..."

Recognition clouding her features, Ailith opened her mouth in a silent scream as she found herself winded with the shock. Taking her stunned silence as invitation, Sirius pulled out the precious piece of paper that declared his innocence and explained the situation as best he could. His words, however, were lost to Ailith who, for all the buzzing in her ears, could only watch as his mouth moved rapidly and he waved a piece of paper around excitedly. It was not until the man had pulled out another piece of paper – this one a court order reinstating the man as patriarch of the family Black and guardian of all it entailed; though Ailith wasn't to comprehend that just yet – that the overwhelmed young girl came to her senses and found her voice.

She screamed.

And screamed.

And screamed.

Dropping both pieces of paper in absolute shock, Sirius flew to his feet and tried to calm the terrified girl. His attempt to physically console her only causing her screams to grow louder, he took a step back warily and eyed the entrance in anticipation. He had hoped to reclaim his children without drawing attention. After all, following almost a lifetime of living at the school there was no doubt that the threesome were close to its staff; the last thing Sirius wanted was to make the change more traumatic by adding a string of goodbyes. He simply wanted to get them home as soon as possible and enjoy what was left of the summer with his children – it wasn't as though they wouldn't be spending nine months of the year at the school before too long anyway.

Falling to his knees, Sirius buried his head in the mattress of his daughter's bed and clutched blindly at the blankets; begging for calm.  
"Ailith, please... please... I could never hurt you," he said pleadingly, lifting his heavy head to look upon her with watery eyes. "Please, just calm down... please..."

His last words breaking off with a pained whisper, Ailith was stunned into silence by the man's outpouring of grief. Having been raised by a cold, uncaring mother and Occlumens master of a step-father, such raw displays of emotion were extremely rare in her experience. Swallowing heavily to soothe her roaring throat, she timidly reached for her inhaler, only to dart back when the man by her bed leapt to his feet and beat her to it; holding it out to her with shaking hands.  
"I won't hurt you," he whispered, handing her the inhaler and watching hungrily as she administered the required dosage; the newly reinstated father wanting to learn whatever it took to keep all his children healthy.

"P-p-potion," said Ailith hoarsely, her hand gesturing towards the elixr that the nurse had prescribed to soothe the pain of her inflammation. The man she was slowly beginning to realise posed no threat to her picked up the vial of bright orange fluid, only to drop it in surprise when the doors to the ward burst open.

"Stay away from her!" yelled Aidan, out of breath and red-faced; his hair ruffled out of place from the exertion. He hurried into the room and pushed past the unresponsive wizard, scowling when he saw the broken vial of potion on the floor. "Ailee, are you all right?"

"Throat hurts," she whispered hoarsely, her screaming having undone a lot of her earlier healing. She pawed at her throat in agitation and pulled a face at her brother. "Where have you been?"

"I was detained at the Ministry," said Aidan lowly, shooting his father a dark look. "This one got a bit ahead of me, I'm afraid... what have you told her?"

Sirius opened his mouth to speak, but then looked to his daughter in question; suddenly noting from her lack of reaction earlier that she probably hadn't taken in a word he had said. Seeing the blank look on her face, he raised a brow at his son.  
"Told me what?" said Ailith timidly, her narrowing eyes signifying a mind furiously back peddling. "What was on that paper?"

"Nothing, it's worthless," said Aidan hurriedly, giving Sirius a warning look. He summoned a replacement vial of the potion that had been dropped and handed it to his sister. "Drink your potion, and rest. I'll send Severus in when he returns."

A small hand grabbed his wrist as he moved away, having intended on leaving the room and taking his newly freed father with him.  
"Wait! Don't go!" said Ailith, panicked. "Stay with me 'til he gets here... I don't want to be alone."

The change that came over Aidan was instantaneous; his face softening immediately. Glaring at Sirius, to get him to move back, he moved in beside his sister and took a seat on the edge of her bed.  
"Of course I will stay with you," he said softly, reaching out and running a hand through her hair, helping her settle back down into her pillows. "Would you like a story?"

Feeling awkwardly out of place, Sirius busied himself with picking up the papers he had dropped earlier and spelling away the potion that had smashed on the parchment with the wand that had once been his father's. Frowning slightly as he reread the words he had once been so excited to have down on paper, he couldn't help but feel like the rug had been pulled out from under him; he had not expected the children to hold the Ministry's ruling in such disregard. Deciding to take a stand, he straightened the sleeves of his borrowed robes and rubbed at his freshly shaven chin.  
"I er, well I hate to be the bad guy in this..." he began nervously.

"Then _don't_," said Aidan pointedly, looking from the paper in his father's hand to the man's face in thinly-veiled disgust. He stood slowly, deftly placing himself in front of his sister; blocking her view. Glaring at Sirius, he hissed quietly. "I didn't go after Pettigrew so you could be free to play at happy families! I did it to get justice for James and Lily."

"I know you did, and they couldn't be prouder of you I am sure," said Sirius earnestly. "I just want to know you all. Just a few weeks of summer... that's all. You're all at Hogwarts nine months of the year anyway; I don't understand all the fuss... why don't you want to come home with me?"

"Our _home_ is here," said Aidan firmly, wincing slightly as Ailith gripped the back of his robes in fear. "You're not taking us anywhere. Mother may not give a damn, but Severus will not allow it."

"Oh that's right... he's off getting himself a lawyer... _right_," said Sirius, off-hand in his indignation. Under his breath he muttered; "more like pulling strings calling in all his favours with the likes of Lucius bloody Malfoy..."

"Get out!" said Aidan angrily, stabbing his finger at the door. "Get out before I throw you out."

Mentally retracing his steps, Sirius attempted to smooth things over, but Aidan was having none of it.  
"I will not have you dredge up petty childhood rivalries to justify what you just implied about my stepfather," said Aidan, remembering the showdown that had occurred at the Ministry a half-hour earlier. He could not believe that his father was trying to pull more of the same in front of his sister, when Severus was not even present to mount a defence. "You have no idea what he's done for us. Don't you _dare_ disgrace him in front of her! You have _no right_."

His son's fierce defence of his foe hitting a sore spot within him, Sirius reacted on pure instinct.  
"_He_ has no right to keep you from me!" he said desperately, waving a shaky hand at his son in emphasis. "I would hate to do it, but don't think I won't have him up on charges if this court order is not honoured! Unless your mother petitions for its amendment – and I think you and I both know she will not – you will just have to get used to only seeing the man during the school term... which, might I remind you, is over _half the goddamn year_!"

"You don't know what you are getting yourself into," said Aidan with a sneer, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"What do you mean there is nothing I can do? There has to be something!" demanded Severus, snarling at the inept case worker; deep within the catacombs of the under-funded Department for Family Services.

"Well, sir, as I _just said_... unless your wife actively counters Mr Black's order with a petition for custody, the family Patriarch is within his right to reclaim his children..."

"The boy is almost of age, and the girl has never met him!" argued the perplexed Potions Professor, his fists clenching at his sides as he fought against Hexing the sweating, portly wizard before him.

"I'm sorry Mr Snape, but I do not write the laws," said the man with contrived sympathy. "With all due consideration, you should consider yourself lucky Mr Black isn't also seeking to have your marriage to his wife annulled. With all charges dropped from his record, his union with... Annelie, is it?... takes precedent."  
The man paused to skim over the case notes with finer detail, noting with a frown a marked indescrepency with the names of the children involved.  
"You raised these children under assumed names?" he asked, confused. Then he saw the name that explained it all. "Potter... wait... _Harry Potter_? He's been alive all this time? You've been raising Harry Potter?"

Severus bristled.  
"_Henry Prince_," he corrected, though gritted teeth. He leaned forward and slammed his hands down on the table, causing the inept case wizard to drop his papers in surprise. "And might I add for official record how Black has now endangered that boy's life!"

"But he's just a child..." the wizard's voice trailed off, and he shrunk away from the piercing glare of the forboding dark wizard. "Surely the public would be heartened to learn of his survival... I can't imagine who would want to hurt him. The Dark Lord is gone..."

"If you truly believe that, then you can be of no help to me," sneered Severus Snape, straightening to his full height and sweeping out of the windowless office in disgust. It was now clear to the wizard that following the letter of the law was pointless; it was time to do things his own way. He could only hope he could undo the damage before the news of the childrens' true identities was reported in the _Prophet_.

Harry burst into the hospital wing and slid to a standstill, his eyes landing on the released prisoner and widening in surprise. Annie had been telling the truth, then. Sirius Black was free and had come to claim them.  
'_Where was Severus?_' he wondered, scanning the room for other signs of life. Spotting Aidan and Ailith almost immediately, he ignored Black's approach and began to hiss at his brother in Parseltongue. "_What the hell is going on? Your mother has all our stuff packed up... how is Black free?_"

Responding with the juvenile hand signals that meant nothing to everyone except the three children who built upon the crude technique over the years, Aidan answered his godbrother's question as best he could.  
_"Later..._" he signed, for absence of having any signal suitable for explaining such a situation.

Sirius, meanwhile, had taken a step back to best observe the two boys. Recognising that his godson was a Parselmouth, but being at a loss to explain it, he concentrated on his son's reaction.  
"You can understand that?" he stated, dumbfounded. Watching as Aidan jerked his hand in agitation – Harry having continued to hiss insistently – he recognised another interesting trait; one that was reminiscent of the silent interaction between brother and sister in that cave. "What's with the hands?"

Scowling in frustration, Aidan swore under his breath and shook his head in defeat. Throwing caution to the wind, he transformed into his Animagus form and wrapped himself around his delighted sister's immediately offered arm. Ignoring Black's gaping look of shock, Aidan then took advantage of being able to respond to his brother without reproach.  
"_I do hope you're happy,"_ he hissed in the snake-language that came naturally in his present form. He pointedly flicked his tongue towards his awed father. "_I may assss well regisssster now!_"

"_I didn't asssk you to transsssform!_" replied Harry in kind. He waved his hand in emphasis. "_We could have gone outsssside and you could have-"_

"_-and leave Ailith with him? I think not!"_ said Aidan angrily, though in actuality his sister's name could not translate into Parseltongue; coming out instead as 'sister egg'.

"_We could have sssstayed within ssssight! Cassst a charm againsssst unwanted earssss," _suggested Harry.

"_Why are we arguing about thisss?_" said Aidan, shaking his scaly head and absently tickling his sister's arm with his tail; his reptilian senses thrilling at her delight. "_What'sss done isss done._"

"_Sssspeaking of which... how isss he free? Issss it true he can claim ussss?" _said Harry, eying Black warily.

Aidan bowed his head towards the papers in Sirius' hand and seemed to visibly slump.  
"_According to that piece of paper..."_ he said listlessly. "_I don't think we have much choice... but don't worry, I have a plan..._"

Harry's grin needed no translation and that, together with the subtle hand movements the green-eyed boy had sent across the room during the exclusive conversation told Ailith all she needed to know. Relaxing into her pillows, the weary girl hugged her brother's scaly form close – like one would a plush toy – and gently ran a finger across his scales, a small smile of contentment on her face. Looking between the three children, Sirius shook his head, under the distinct impression that he was missing something.

END CHAPTER


	8. Reflections of the Past

**Disclaimer: **If it were mine, do you really think I'd let a day job and a post graduate degree hijack all my writing time?

**Updated: **Saturday 13 March 2010

**A/N: **Yes, I am still alive. No, I do not wish to talk about it. All I will say is that I despise the fact that real life is keeping me from pursuing the things that I love (both in terms of finishing these stories and stabilising my errant career path). Profuse apologies for keeping people waiting :(

**Chapter 8: Reflections of the Past**

Sirius awoke in a cold sweat, the memory of finding his son and Harry in the rubble of Godric's Hollow resonating in his mind. After finding James and Lily dead, his hopes of finding Aidan and his godson alive had rapidly faded. As he'd approached the overturned cot, he was taunted by the childish humming that the wind blew to his disbelieving ears; the numb Animagus having truly thought that the children were also gone. When instead he had been greeted by the sight of a restlessly sleeping Harry and wide-eyed Aidan, Lily's wand directed at him by his boy's trembling hand, it became destined to remain forever imprinted on his mind as a sign of his own failure to protect his family.

'_Daddy, please don't go!'_

It was always the same, his son's terrified pleas echoing from the depths of his soul; where the Dementors had liked to torment him the most. Just as he had never been able to forgive himself for encouraging James to make Peter Secret Keeper, the knowledge he had abandoned the boys in his foolish pursuit for vengeance was equally as devastating. He had thought that once he was free and had the children with him once more things would start to take a turn for the better, but he'd had them back over a week and it just seemed as though he couldn't do anything right.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Sirius Black untangled himself from the twisted pile of sheets around him and reached blindly for a t-shirt. When, for lack of anywhere else to go, he had listed Grimmauld Place as his primary residence, he'd not known of Aidan and Ailith's history with the house. Dumbledore had hinted that something was amiss with his decision; the older wizard strongly encouraging Sirius to set up his base at Hogwarts until he 'found his feet'. At the time, Sirius had scoffed at the suggestion, thinking the meddling old wizard was trying to assist Snape in his bid to maintain an influence upon the children outside of the classroom; but after seeing _that_ fear in his son's eyes when the Portkey delivered them into the hallway of Grimmauld Place, he realised the weight of Dumbledore's warning.

Soundlessly closing the door behind him, Sirius crept down the hallway towards the bedroom his son had insisted _all_ the children share. Aidan had hid his fear well, but Sirius had not been able to ignore the look in the boy's eyes... the wariness in the fathomless grey orbs an expression that matched his own despair in Azkaban, and one that he had seen on his son's features only once before.  
"Oh Aidy..." Sirius sighed dejectedly, leaning against the doorframe as he contemplated the closed bedroom door in front of him. His son's current disposition should not have surprised him so... Aidan's innocence having been stolen all those years ago. The sound of movement on the other side of the door startling the wrought Animagus into awareness, Sirius gasped soundlessly as he realised one thing: all these years on and he didn't even know just what his son had seen that night.

Taking a deep breath, the nervous father gripped the door handle and squeezed it slowly, ducking his head around the door cautiously. When he saw his son sitting in an armchair, his face shadowed by the wavering light of a dying candle as he polished his broom, he swung the door open a little further and stepped into the room.  
"You should be in bed," he said stupidly, for lack of anything else to say. Sirius kept his voice low, to avoid waking the other children sleeping in the beds that were between father and son.

"So should you," responded Aidan, not missing a beat. "What are you doing here?"

Feeling somewhat indignant at the implication that his presence was uncalled for, Sirius drew himself up to his full height and raised his chin in defiance.  
"I used to check on you every night when I was home," he admitted wistfully.

"_When_ you were home," spat back Aidan, returning his attention to his broom; the polishing cloth rubbing furiously into the already shiny grain. Looking up suddenly, the teenage boy narrowed his eyes as he re-assessed Sirius' dishevelled appearance. Mindful not to awaken either of the two slumbering children in the room, Aidan kept his voice at a low, expressionless whisper. "What's the matter, the ravages of Azkaban waking you up in the night? I could give you a potion for that..."

"I'm sure you could," whispered back Sirius blithely, not wanting to think of what sort of brews his son was capable of, after years under the care of Snivellus.

"So you don't deny it, then?" hissed Aidan, with a sharp intake of breath.

"Deny what?"

"Deny that you had a nightmare," said Aidan slowly, his voice neither mocking, nor dripping with concern.

"What does that have to do with anything?" said Sirius, running a hand through his hair in agitation as he inwardly backpeddled, trying to determine just how the conversation had taken such a turn. Why did everything have to be an argument with his boy?

"You dodged my question," stated Aidan simply. "I asked you what you were doing here and you hid behind the past. A truthful response would have been to admit that you had a nightmare and came looking for reassurance."

"That's not why I came!" spluttered Sirius, his pride hurt. Remembering something else, he became defensive. "I'm not the only one dodging questions, anyway – you never told me why you were still up!"

Fossicking into the pocket of the robe that hung on the back of the chair he was seated in, Aidan withdrew a block of chocolate and threw it at his father, who caught it by reflex.  
"You never asked," said Aidan smoothly. "You said, and I quote, that I should be in bed. It was not a question I could dodge, but a statement I then parried with an observation of my own."  
He stood and propped his broomstick against the wall before casting a cursory glance at the two sleeping children across the room and ushering his father out into the hall.  
"You are not the only person in this house who is haunted by the past," said Aidan vaguely. "Ailith does not adjust well to the unfamiliar. She has not rested easily under this roof unless someone has sat with her until she has fallen asleep. She's only been out about half an hour."

Numbly following his son down the stairs towards the kitchen, Sirius was again reminded of his son's term in his mother's care by the ease in which the boy navigated the house.  
"How... how long were you here for?" he asked dumbly, leaning against the kitchen counter and watching in awe as his son pulled out a kettle and began preparing tea with practiced fluidity. Though he would never begrudge fact that his son had grown up with Harry and an additional sibling, he'd found it most important to reconnect with his firstborn before attempting getting to know the others... but it was a task made most difficult when the other children were _always_ with Aidan. This night marked the first opportunity, since the cave, when they had been alone.

Aidan paused in his task and peered over at his father in mild surprise, cocking his head to one side in consideration. He'd known to expect a certain degree of ignorance from the man who had spent almost a dozen years behind bars, cut off from society, but it surprised him to note that no one had bothered to give the man even the barest of details.  
"Seventeen months, two weeks, four days and about eleven hours," recited Aidan, realising that of all the people in the position to inform the man before him of such a fact, Severus would not go out of his way to disclose the information, his mother had not yet seen the man at all and Dumbledore... well Dumbledore probably saw this as an opportunity for estranged father and son to _bond_. Spooning sugar into his cup with a little too much force, Aidan cursed the headmaster for his meddlesome ways and sought to wipe the pitying look off his father's face. "Ailith was three at the time – she doesn't remember all that much, really. Her reluctance to sleep in a strange place is just as much generic as it is on account of what little she does recall."

Reading between the lines, Sirius blindly accepted the cup of tea his son had wordlessly handed him and furrowed his brow.  
"What about you?" he asked gently. "What do remember? What keeps you up at night?"

"Nothing I intend to confide in you about," said Aidan curtly, sipping from his tea cup slowly. He set the china down primly and gazed at the man across from him with a calculating expression. "Did you know that a Dementor takes your worst memory and plays it over and over in your mind? Which was it for you? Was it finding me face down in that bathwater after mother left me there to drown, or did finding your best friend and his wife dead because of your own foolish mistake do it for you?"

Deaf to his son's last words, Sirius' mind pivoted on one particular revelation.  
"You _remember_ that?" he spluttered, eyes wide. "You were barely four!"

"I remember because I caught pneumonia afterwards and you Flooed me to James and Lily, still soaking wet, and made me _lie_ to them about what had happened," hissed Aidan scathingly. "I remember, because when it came time for me to go home, and I knew you weren't going to be there all the time, I'd never been so terrified in all my life."

His breath taken away by the frankness of his son's words, Sirius inhaled shakily and cut Aidan off.  
"Aidan... your mother... she wasn't well..."

"Shut up! I may have bought your deluded little platitudes then, but too many years have passed since – there is no denying where I stand with that woman I call my mother," said Aidan bitingly. "I am not four years old, anymore."

"I failed to protect you," said Sirius flatly, a lump forming in his throat. "I... I only wanted what was best, son... you deserved to have two parents that loved you and I couldn't bring myself to admit... I'm sorry Aidan."

"Oh, and I suppose you're only doing what you think is right, now, aren't you?" said Aidan, ignoring his father's stumbling apology. "Tearing Ailith and Harry from the only life they've known and bringing us _here_ of all places so you can what, rekindle a flame in a house full of draughts? Do you really think I spared you a thought all of these years? Of those that gave me life, you were simply the lesser of two evils. Leaving me with James and Lily was probably the best decision you'd ever made."

Sirius squirmed uncomfortably in his seat, though Aidan's words were hardly surprising – the kid had spent the vast majority of his life under the 'care' of a Snape. Deflecting blame, then, away from himself by justifying that his son's opinion had been duly influenced by his childhood nemesis, he snarled defensively.  
"You accuse me of using a boyhood animosity against Snape," he said lowly, "...even though his opinions of me have clearly coloured your own perspective."

Thinking of the potion that, once legally administered, would strip the man before him of the custodial power he held over them, Aidan curled his lips in distaste.  
"If that's what you want to believe, then I'm not going to waste my breath, convincing you otherwise," he said coolly, setting his cup in the sink and moving to vacate the kitchen. "Now if you'll excuse me, my sister is stirring."

Watching as his son strode out of the room with a tense rigidity that reminded Sirius all too ironically of his own countenance around his parents in the very same house, it was all he could do to not pursue his son and vehemently separate himself from his father before him. He vaguely suspected his son had left the room under false pretenses when he heard it: Ailith calling out her brother's name.

* * *

Sirius had slept uneasily after that. Even though Harry had been there to respond to Ailith as she awoke, the girl had been inexplicably terrified to see her brother missing and Sirius could not shake the suspicion that such a reaction might've had something to do with the time the pair had spent with his mother. From his room across the hall, the excluded father could only listen helplessly as Aidan struggled to reassure the girl; the painful reality that he was too unfamiliar with all of the children something that had caught him quite unaware. He'd hoped at least to spark some measure of residual kinship with his son. Instead, he was, whether he chose to admit it or not, regarded as part of the problem.

Early the next morning, after carefully listening for signs of life outside his door, Sirius darted out of his room and into the bathroom at the end of the hall. It was ridiculous, that he should suddenly feel so intimidated by the thought of encountering the three children, but each morning as he'd woken up, he just didn't quite know how to start the day. After the previous night's exchange with his son, Sirius knew better than to continue with any measure of optimism; the 'let's make the best of a bad situation' approach being as transparent to the trio who had grown up so fast without him as it was steadfastly becoming to himself. By his own admission, his experience lay with dealing with preschoolers; back then, things with his son had been so comparatively simple – nothing like the complex web of duplicity teenaged experience could wager.

Which is why he'd called in the help of a friend.

But with the full moon, Remus could not travel right away, and was not set to arrive until a little before lunch that day, and Sirius knew he would have to face his children before then. Running his face under the steady stream of water in the sink, he almost did not hear the sound below him until it resounded throughout the house a second time.

"THWACK!!"

Startled, the former Auror was suddenly wide awake, shooting upwards and out the door with such speed he'd forgotten to stem the flow of running water in his haste. Charging down the stairs, two, three at a time, he followed the source of the repetitive 'THWACK!' noises, all manner of images of attack running through his mind, until he had burst into the drawing room on the main level of the house.

Upon seeing the exonerated fugitive burst into the room, his wand drawn, the two boys lowered their Beaters Bats and moved to stand in front of their sister, who was busy scrambling down from the settee she had been standing on. Instantaneously, the miniature plumes of smoky apparitions that had stood in for real Quidditch targets popped out of sight; the similarly ghost-like Bludger the boys had been directing with their very real bats hovering in the air a moment longer before it too faded from view.

Having seen enough to deduce what the children were playing at, and knowing full well that they probably expected to be disciplined for initiating such games in the house, Sirius smiled and looked at them eagerly.  
"Can I play?" he asked hopefully, all too keen to break in to the good graces of the skeptical team.

The three children exchanged looks. Whereas Harry looked surprised and little Ailith seemingly keen to acquiesce to his request, Aidan's expression was closed.  
"Come along, Ailith, it is time for breakfast anyway..." he said, ignoring Sirius' question.

"But we were just getting started-" Ailith began to protest, her eyes darting between her brother and newly-found father in confusion.

"But nothing, Ailith," said Aidan firmly, cutting her off. He tucked his Beater Bat under one arm and threw the other about the girl's shoulders, pulling him to her protectively. "If you want me to teach you that Charm after breakfast then we really must eat now."

Ailith nodded slowly in acceptance but faltered when her eyes landed on Sirius.  
"But Aidan..." she tugged on her brother's sleeve. "We're not at the school anymore, and the Ministry says..."

"This house is unplottable," Aidan assured his sister with a secretive smile. "The Ministry won't be able to detect if we use magic here – it will be just like when we are at home. Won't it, _Father_?"

"Thank Merlin for small favours," threw in Harry with a small sneer, his tone coloured with a nonchalance that Sirius remembered of James, but under entirely different circumstances.

Ignoring the dull ache in his heart that came from hearing the derisive tone of a Potter directed _at_ him, Sirius flinched at the way in which his son continued to address him. Gone was the little boy whose face would light up when he entered the room, his rapturous greeting of '_Daddy!_' sounding excited, possessive, proud and full to the brim with love all at the same time. By stark contrast, the way Aidan spoke of him now was laced with the poisons of obligation, of bitter hurt and betrayal; of wary distrust. As surely as the noise the Beater Bat made hitting its conjured target still rung in his ears, the tone of his son's voice and all it implied hung in the air like a cloud of impenetrable mist; like a heavy atmosphere that made each step towards his family seem like a mile and the air in his lungs dense enough to drown him. As much as he wanted to convince himself that the children's regard for him were coloured and marred by the influence of the man who had raised them, deep down Sirius knew that the damage had likely been done that night in Godric's Hollow; when he had abandoned the boys in favour of pursuing vengeance and unwittingly broken a promise.

The question that burned in Sirius' soul now, as he stood motionlessly and watched as his firstborn had led the younger children out of the door, bound for the kitchen, was one he was not sure he wanted to know the answer to. He just didn't think he could go on living if there wasn't some way to make amends, or at least a fool's hope of such redemption. Casting his eyes upwards, Sirius whispered a prayer to the powers above and hoped that wherever they were now, James and Lily were looking out for them all.

END CHAPTER:

A/N: This chapter was originally over 11,000 words long, however I have made the conservative decision to break it into three not because I wish to string people along with comparatively short updates (which, given the infrequency of such I know is infuriating) but rather to give myself more of a buffer between what is posted and where I presently am in my writing. Just as I haven't updated any of my stories in months (for shame!), I've not been able to substantially add to any of my WIPs either, much to my own (and my many plot bunnies') chagrin. I more or less have each of my stories mapped out in my head, so they will be completed... albeit I have a feeling that in comparison to the languid pace of their respective beginnings (as written way back when I had a life of leisure LOL) said endings may be a little more accelerated than originally intended. But in forcing myself to space the updates, I am giving myself more opportunity to give the work as much credibility and 'fleshing out' as I can. All I can ask for is your continued patience, and acceptance of my apologies :(


End file.
